Strict Machines
by JenKristo
Summary: Optimus Prime was a leader, and leadership suffused his very being. KA-R1-302 was a Vehicon miner who lived for the end of each workday. An Energon raid, a snap decision, and their lives would alter forever. Despite the overwhelming odds, their crossing paths lead to something that neither could have anticipated.
1. The Captive

So, Chai and I have co-authored another fic! The story began with us wondering what would happen if the Autobots captured a Vehicon. Anyway, we're proud to present Strict Machines. Please enjoy!

Chapter 1

"Get back!" Optimus shouted when he heard the tremors shake from the ceiling of the mine shaft. A massive, metal-buckling boulder fell and then rocks began falling like a stream. Optimus jumped back one way and the other Autobots leapt backed the other, and watched each other through the shower of rock. Optimus gritted his denta as he watched the last of the cave-in separate him from his comrades. 'Arcee, Bulkhead,' he commed, 'Have you sustained any injuries?'

Coughing to clear her intakes, Arcee attempted to wave the cloud of dust and grit away - with minimal success. 'None here...Optimus, are you alright?'  
Bulkhead inspected himself quickly, finding only a scatter of golf ball sized dents across his right side. It wasn't painful and may as well have been a tap on the shoulder to a Wrecker. 'Say the word, this pile of dirt goes down.'

'I'm unharmed. And Bulkhead, hold off until further order.' Optimus looked behind his shoulder, listening. He took a few steps away from the pile and down the shaft, then turned a corner. There it was: the detected storage location for Decepticon-mined energon. There were a number of miners bringing energon in and stacking it, and then retreating again through the lower tunnel. There were only a few actual eradicons, less than he'd previously taken out in a matter of minutes. He returned to the cave-in. 'I don't think the cave-in has disturbed their work, but I fear the noise of breaking it down will seem too unnatural to ignore. While we still have the element of surprise, I will clear the room first and send for you.'

'Understood,' Arcee commed back. Bulkhead, while looking slightly disappointed not to be smashing through the cave in site and taking the room full of vehicons by storm, nodded and accepted the order without complaint. He placed his back to the stones, prepared to deal with anyone who may have been coming down the path, alerted by the sound of rocks falling.

KA-R1-302 had no expectations for that day, high or low. He was an unremarkable looking Vehicon even by Vehicon standards, his body marked with the usual layer of mining dust and a patchwork of scratches beneath it. The sound of the cave-in had him slightly on edge, but his workmates had been quick to reassure him; it had only been a small one and anyhow, it was common knowledge that the passage was unstable.

Against all odds, this had managed to relax him and he carried on stacking cubes without dwelling too much on the matter. When the shifts changed and he rotated up towards the surface, he would feel even better.

Optimus quietly slipped forward, narrowing his optics as at the eradicon nearest to the exit tunnel. He'd formed a trail in his mind, which order he would proceed so that all armed mechs were down with as little time to retaliate as possible. In warfare with Decepticons on Cybertron, he would also note the hiding places closest to each of the targets, the assumed place they would take cover. But he had enough experience with Shockwave's drone soldiers to know that they rarely ever took cover. Their bravery only increased his distaste for war. He took aim at the targeted eradicon and opened fire.

The target dropped like a stone. It took the gathered Eradicons only a few short nano-kliks to collect themselves, for the first wave of panic and confusion to settle and the weapons to be drawn. While they were more prepared for the daily reality of mining accidents, the threat of Autobot attack was something that loomed over all of their heads.

But the eradicon known as KA-R1-302 did not open fire. As his comrades were backing up, trying to move into better positions, aiming for the unprotected areas around the neck and torso, he was looking for any other means of fighting back.

One down, two down, three down, f- Optimus paused at the fourth, who didn't have his weapon raised. As second nature as it was to fire his weapon, it was equally so to avoid the unarmed. He hesitated, and was immediately struck by one of the remaining drones. He felt the blast graze the side of his abdomen and he fell back, turning the corner in the cave. He put a servo on the wound and decided he'd live, then looked back out and saw the last of the miners leave. Good. He leapt forward, and fired two shots before hitting another drone. He leapt over the edge and slid down the steep wall before landing at ground level with the enemy.

As quickly as it had all begun, KA-R1-302 knew he was alone. His gaze shot from one fallen Vehicon to the other, not knowing if they were offlined or just unconscious, but unable to do anything for any of them. Then something caught the edge of his visual feed; with only a sense of the inevitable in his spark, he made up his mind.

He scrambled for one of the openings leading further down into the mine, a passage he knew had been stripped of energon and would be empty today. If only he could make it that far, he thought that he might draw the Autobot leader as far from his retreating comrades as possible.

'The coast is clear,' Optimus commed Bulkhead and Arcee. But then he spotted movement in his peripheral and he turned to see one last drone running toward another exit. If there was a chance he was finding quick backup, he would have to act soon. Perhaps he'd be able to knock him out, but if the drone finally decided to use force, he would have no choice.

Although the urge tore at him like a hook, the drone had long since learned to never look back. Capture was inevitable, termination most probable, but he would delay it for as long as anyone possibly could...it was all he could do now. He ducked around the long, swooping corner, pressing his back struts to the wall and waiting, listening for the sounds of the Autobot's approach to overcome those of his own intakes.

The hall quieted, and Optimus no longer could hear the sound of the drone's footfalls. He had stopped somewhere. He was hiding, and the only reason Optimus could imagine was that he'd found a weapon and no longer felt the need to flee. He slowed his run to a careful walk, quieting his systems as best he could as he listened, and waited for the whining charge of a weapon. He turned a corner and looked down at a bright red visor. He aimed quickly, narrowing his optics at the drone. "Do not move." He watched him, waiting for him to aim, for him to defend himself.

KA-R1-302 stared up at the hardened optics, the face half concealed by solid metal, and suddenly knew for certain that he was about to be offlined. His memory banks ran through it all, from being a soldier, to waking up in the med bay and learning those days were over, to the friends he hoped he'd meet again soon. The useless gun set into his arm felt heavy and useless as he wished for just one round...for his weapons system to reawaken just once, and give this mech something to always remember him

by. "Go ahead and shoot me, Autobot. Try and finish the job this time."

So they had crossed paths before? Optimus' optics momentarily flicked over him, looking for some sign of old injury, but in the darkness there wasn't much to see. He wasn't a medic, but it only stood to reason that the drone's refusal to fight was related to an injury. After all, Optimus had never encountered an eradicon who didn't arm themselves. "I am no executioner," Optimus said. "If you refuse to draw your weapon then I will not finish anything." He looked over the drone and wondered, perhaps, if this was an opportunity to learn something. In the past he had asked himself if there was any benefit in interrogating a soldier, but the Autobots had never found an opportune moment. He reverted his weapon to a servo, knowing that a lone eradicon was no match for him, armed or not. He took a step closer and lowered his tone. "Turn around and place your servos on the wall."

The drone quickly weighed his option of running. If the Autobot leader truly wasn't going to harm him, then it would be worth the risk to try...particularly when the alternative was capture, in many ways worse than death. Maybe if he transformed, his cog would actually decide to cooperate and let him change into vehicle mode without any problems. He took a single step backwards, glancing at what little space stood between the wall and Optimus Prime, hesitating. He did not place his servos on the wall.

Optimus suddenly regretted being so honest. He wasn't going to shoot an unarmed mech but he hadn't needed to tell him that much. A little more fear would have helped with cooperation, but it was too late for that now. He watched the drone's stance change, one pede slipping to the side, elbow joints pulling back. He was going to shift. "Don't," Optimus warned.

KA-R1-302 did. With a painful, unnatural screech of metal on metal, he lurched forward into his vehicle mode, gunning the engine and shooting straight for the gap.

With a sigh, Optimus straightened up and activated his comm. He knew Arcee and Bulkhead would be in the main cave by now, and the ground bridge would likely be opened as they carried the supply through. 'Bulkhead, there's a drone heading your way. He is most likely unarmed and I would like you to capture him with as little harm as is possible.' He switched comm links and continued. 'Arcee, retrieve stasis cuffs through the ground bridge and return promptly."

He almost didn't dare to believe it, but the way was clear. He'd made it through The grit was flying behind his rear tires and amongst it was the leader of the Autobots - the one KA-R1-302 had been so completely certain would deal out his death blow. Putting as much power into it as he could, the Vehicon raced for the mine exit, for open air and safety and -

Suddenly, he was being ripped off the ground. Blunt, powerful servos had him around the back wheel wells, holding him perfectly immobile as a voice spoke over the squeal of tires. 'All yours, Arcee!' Then blue and silver flashed before his vision; the heat of a recently fired weapon was pressed to his hood.

"You've got three nano-klicks to change back."

Optimus ran after, not in so much of a hurry as to need his alt mode. When he reached the cave he saw that Bulkhead and Arcee had successfully apprehended the drone. "Easy," he said, though he didn't interrupt them. He'd told them not to harm him once, and trusted that he wouldn't have to say it again.

No sooner had the Vehicon transformed back than those servos were pinning him down, and the femme forcing his wrists into stasis cuffs. When they closed, he felt his systems lock up accordingly; he couldn't do much more than look around and writhe. Walking would have been possible, but only just.

"He's not injured, Optimus," said the femme, although only her pedes were visible from the Vehicon's current angle.

"Not until you give the order," added the larger bot, sounding as though he were longing to get a kick in.

"Bulkhead, get him to his pedes and make sure he doesn't run." He turned to Arcee. "I'll have Ratchet determine his injury status once we bring him home."

The Vehicon was hoisted to his pedes. He felt himself sway under the systems lock, but otherwise remain upright. Still, running was an impossibility - and even if he'd been free, the heavy servo that clapped down on his shoulder plating discouraged any thoughts of it. As a ground bridge was being called in, he glanced up at the dark green Autobot, voice soft and cold. "I'm not telling you anything."

Said Autobot chuckled, annoying in its lightheartedness. "We didn't ask."

Ratchet's optics widened when he saw an eradicon being guided through the ground bridge. "What in Primus' name are you doing with that soldier?!"

"I'll tell you my thoughts on it, Ratchet, as soon as Arcee and I have secured the last of the energon."

"And what about him? Will you have Bulkhead hold him right here beside the children?"

Optimus glanced at the kids. "I believe you're right. Bulkhead, bring the Eradicon to one of our empty storage vaults. Bumblebee, take them home. The base is unfit for humans with a Decepticon present."

Miko watched with wide, glowing eyes, practically shaking as the Vehicon was led out, helm held low. "Are you kidding?! You're going to play good cop, bad cop with a Decepticon and you expect us to just clear out?"

"Pretty much," Bulkhead replied from the hallway entrance, pushing their prisoner forward as he tried to crane around for a better look at the children. "I'll give you all the details later, Miko!"

"Awww..." The young girl's shoulders sagged dramatically. Jack gave a curious glance around the corner as the sound of heavy metal footfalls grew further and further away.

"Since when did you start taking prisoners? You've never done that before."

Optimus avoided the question, not having a solid answer to it. "We'll discuss that in the future. At the moment we still have energon to collect and you need to be going home."

He and Arcee continued to transfer energon until reinforcements attacked, and by then there was more than enough to warrant a retreat without further engagement. Ratchet closed the ground bridge.

When they returned from the mine, their supplies contained more energon than they had been privilege to in a long while. As the two stepped through the ground bridge for the last time, Arcee looked around the room for Bulkhead, but assumed he was still down below, guarding the Vehicon. "Well, at least we can afford to feed a prisoner, now. Probably could have grabbed another one..." It was often difficult to tell whether or not she was joking.

Optimus stared at her for a moment in acknowledge of the statement. "I suppose I should explain. Once or twice in the past I've wondered if interrogating a drone might be to our advantage. I know they're not told much from the top, but it stands to reason that we could still learn something from them if we managed to get the soldier to tell us. Even things such as their schedule on the Nemesis would be beneficial. I have a number of questions I'd like to ask."

"So how do you plan on making him talk?" Ratchet asked, brow raised.

Optimus looked away. "That I haven't determined yet. If he refuses to speak without torture then I will give it up."

Arcee frowned slightly. She had always known full well that someday, the Decepticon drones would factor into their plans - it was simply a logical step to take. Now that they had one, the possible concerns seemed to arise as fast as their plans could form. "And if he doesn't talk, then what will we do? He's seen the inside of our base, and not just one room, either. We can't just turn him loose out in the desert; he'd go running back to Megatron with a full report on our layout."

"Don't forget that Megatron too has seen the inside of our base. Perhaps not all of it, but the difference seems minimal enough to me. He's only been here a short while, I think we can put away anything that we don't want him to see. As for release, if we were to let him loose it would be through the ground bridge, not directly out of the mountain. We will all just have to take care in what we say in his presence. In the meantime I want to have his vitals checked; I think that will tell us a lot in itself. Ratchet, if you would join me?" Optimus didn't mention what the vehicon had said, and his mild curiosity in the connection between past damage and the drone's inability to use his weapon.

The Vehicon sat in his makeshift cell, far below the base - servos still cuffed tightly, systems still sluggish with the lock they had placed. His energon reserves were dipping just below standard level and he was coated in a layer of dust from the mine, but he knew things could be much worse. He wondered if they were planning on leaving him here until he was sufficiently starved and jammed from the stasis lock, then dragging him out for questioning.

It would have been the most logical thing to do, he thought while digging a clump of red rock out from a seam in his knee.

Optimus and Ratchet reached the door to the 'cell' and stopped. He was torn. On one hand he felt it was his responsibility to ask the questions, and on the other he felt he was the last mech the drone would want to talk to. Today alone he'd shot down half a dozen of his comrades. Optimus sighed and unlocked the door to enter.

KA-R1-302 looked up as they entered the cell. Immediately he was on the alert, although he knew full well how little this would actually help him. By color scheme alone, he recognized the Autobot medic; thoughts of medical torture raced through his processor and he once again braced for the worst.

Ratchet looked at his leader, knowing that the first move had to be his.

Optimus looked the drone over, who was seated against the wall, looking incredibly tense. "Tell me what you can without touching him and we'll work from there. I'm interested in his fuel levels, and finding a cause for his lack of weaponry."

The Vehicon inched back, the visored glare quietly challenging, albeit in an expressionless sort of way. Ratchet gave him a once over. "You said he was able to shift into vehicle mode? It could be exclusive damage to upper-right hemisphere of the T-cog, or else a disruption between the Affine path and the weapon itself...there's no way to know without running a scan."

Optimus nodded, knowing that a trip to the med bay would have to be saved for later.

He also found himself interested in the drone's fuel level because the level of the lowest soldier could shed light on the Nemesis' current stocks. Even working in a mine filled with energon, he doubted Megatron just let them refuel whenever they liked. Drones with full tanks meant large rations, which meant they were doing well. Low level tanks meant smaller rations. Even a hard day's work wouldn't send a full drone down too far.

He turned to the drone pointedly. "I don't suppose you'd save us the struggle and tell us anything? How is your fuel level?"

"And what happens if I don't want to tell you?" the drone replied without heat.

Ratchet crossed his arms. "Then Optimus holds you down, I go in through your mouth and pass a gauge down into your fuel tank. You're still cuffed, so it won't be too much extra effort on our part, but you'll feel like the underside of a rustpile for the remainder of the day."

"...Three quarters of a tank."

Optimus sighed. "I hardly think you could manage a day's work and still have three quarters of a tank, unless you've been sitting completely still and controlling your intakes since the morning." He approached the drone. "Is telling us your level really going to bring down the Nemesis?"

The Vehicon stared levelly up at him. His answers were short, simple, and almost tired. "You would't ask if you didn't have a reason."

Ratchet stayed back, letting his leader negotiate the matter, but working out how best to restrain the drone if it came down to that. He knew of quite a few ways to make a bot hurt, more than he ever wanted to admit out loud, and privately he dreaded the idea.

Optimus studied him. He had certainly misjudged the Eradicons, and knew now that this one wouldn't be tricked into giving him answers. And as was true to the Autobot way, he wouldn't torture him.

He knelt to one knee, crossing his arms as he continued to look at him, as if enough staring would bring something out of the red optical visor. The Eradicon was dirty and battered. And it wasn't what one would gain from a day's work. It was a life time of neglect.

"You're hungry," he finally said. "If you were satisfied you would say so right away. You would be proud to be in an army that was refueled often, not being in need. But to say nothing, you're saving your pride. It seems I already have my answer, even if it's not exact."

The more he looked at him, the sadder he felt. "Let me tell you something, soldier. When I release you, you will not be met with a warm welcome by your higher ranks, as my fellow Autobots have been on the rare occasions that they escape Decepticon hold. No, the interrogation will continue for you. You will not see your friends right away. You will see Megatron, and he will torture you until he is sure that you've said nothing to me, not a drop of information that might hurt his long misguided cause. And no matter how exhausted you are, how in need of refueling or recharge you may be, he will keep you until you've told him about every moment you stood in my presence. I hope you're paying attention, because you will need to remember this. I've known Megatron longer than you've been online in this world and the last, and I can promise that this is your fate."

Optimus stood and went to Ratchet, speaking in a lowered voice. "I would appreciate if you could bring a full cube of energon."

The silence in the room was almost penetrative, keen and thin as a surgical blade. Without a word to break it, the medic slipped from the room, locking the door behind him with a reverberating click.

KA-R1-302 locked gazes with his captor. The emptiness in his fuel tank, the grit beneath his plating...behind his visor, he could just feel the old familiar static beginning again. Pain he was accustomed to, exhaustion he could handle, and death was always hovering near the Eradicon ranks - but the never ending uncertainty of what would come next weighed on his shoulder plating in a way nothing else had. "...What do you want from me?"

Optimus' brow plating pulled together at the sound of his tone. He leaned against the wall with his side facing the Eradicon. "I want any knowledge I can gain from your presence, as any captor wants, I suppose." He looked at the other. "I'm compelled, out of personal curiosity, to ask about our last encounter, about the damage I inflicted on you. I trust you're wise enough to determine if it's safe to tell me that much."

KA-R1-302 glanced toward his side, considering. His personal injury had little to do with the Decepticon cause and if anything could be considered a freak accident. Maybe allowing this much would be enough of a start, could buy him some time. "Your medic guessed right. Damage to the T-cog. You probably don't remember running into us near that lake, do you?" He gestured vaguely over the affected side. "Got me right there."

Optimus nodded once. "I remember the lake. But I suppose that is only the beginning of the story. For what reason were you guarding an energon mine with other Eradicons if you were unable to fight?"

The Vehicon was slightly thrown off by this. He thought it would have been apparent why they'd sent him underground. "Hmm? I move the cubes, run the machinery. You don't think we're all down there to guard it, do you?"

"Yes, that is what I believed." Optimus said, looking at the wall thoughtfully. "If Megatron has soldiers assisting with the work force that far underground then the Decepticon circumstances may be more pressing than I imagined. Or perhaps I've overestimated the population of miners." He turned back to the drone. "Not that I was trying to gain information from your story. I had honestly asked on a personal basis." Optimus looked away, suddenly wondering if that was an unnecessary detail.

"I don't see what you could have gotten out of it," said the Vehicon, wondering if his resolve may have been slipping with the medic out of sight. In addition to the static, his body was beginning to ache everywhere. It always did late at night. Where lying had failed him, he made an attempt at the truth. "Look...you don't need me to tell you that the best fighting mechs aren't working the mine. You probably won't believe it, but I really don't know anything."

Optimus watched the vehicon squirm, shifting and repositioning and looking tenser than he had before. He tried to think of what it was, if he'd said anything that stood out from the rest. But the truth was that tonight it felt like everything stood out in the wrong way. Even though he always spoke from the spark, it seemed that he was filled with the wrong words far too often. Perhaps he had forced the disconnect to form as a means of self preservation. After taking so many lives, it was necessary for a mech to do. He tried to force it back, to look at the vehicon and understand, but he couldn't be sure he understood him. He watched the Eradicon fidgeting restlessly and saw the clots of dirt and rock falling to the floor from his joints. At least he knew one thing could be done. He came over to the drone and effortlessly pulled him up to his feet.

"Come with me."

The room swayed slightly, a combination of an empty fuel tank and too much time spent in stasis cuffs. Stirred free by the motion, pieces of red grit rolled down KA-R1-302's plating like dozens of tiny bolders. The Vehicon was no longer bracing himself for an impending session of physical torture, and he could no longer say that being offlined was inevitable. Nothing had gone the way he'd expected, so he simply stopped expecting any particular thing.

Even so, he tried not to look around too freely as Optimus led him down the hallway.

Optimus led him into the wash racks, a long, brightly lit room with concrete floors that dipped slightly to a central drain. It wasn't exactly set up the way Cybertronians would build a wash rack, but the old military car washing facility had good pressure and the added water heater worked well enough. He brought the Eradicon to stand beside one of the Autobot-installed shower heads and turned on the water, adjusting the heat until it steamed. "Help yourself," he said, gesturing to the cleanser dispenser and cleaning supplies seated on a shelf in the wall.

KA-R1-302 looked from Optimus to the wash rack, unsure if he was going to be released from his cuffs. When it became apparent that no such thing was forthcoming, he stepped forward to the shower head; the dirt was caked on and itching terribly, and he just wanted it off before the Autobot could change his mind.

Even cuffed, he managed to switch the rack on and turn the spray towards himself, every fiber automatically relaxing under the hot blast...for a moment, it didn't matter that it was just turning to mud.

Only the fact of his audience could have cut the Vehicon's enjoyment short, and he awkwardly applied cleanser to the cleaning sponge. It seemed natural to start at his upper thighs, the only place within immediate reach, which he did with only a slight aversion to Optimus's optics on him.

To be Continued.


	2. KA-R1-302

Chapter 2

Optimus watched the Eradicon awkwardly trying to clean himself. The only thing he would be able to reach were his legs, really. Yes, he would definitely need to be released. But then, even if the drone was weak and deep in the Autobots' base, he knew he couldn't just unlock the cuffs without thought. He wondered what his comrades would say if he asked them what to do, and in his mind the answer was unanimously against it. With the help of his imagination, they were even mad that he needed to ask. Well he was a Decepticon, after all.

He took another sponge from the shelf and loaded it with cleanser. He knew the drone could see him, and there was no point in asking permission. He needed to be cleaned, and there were worse forms of torture than unwanted help bathing.

"Hold still," he said, putting a servo on the drone's shoulder to stabilize him as he began to scrub his back plating.

The Vehicon froze where he stood. It wasn't the prospect of another mech bathing him - the drones usually did wash in pairs - but the fact of whose servos were on him and the question of why. Like a small prey animal caught before the gaze of a much larger predator, he remained stock still, staring straight ahead, listening to the sound of rushing water and the slide of cleanser over his back plating.

Optimus concentrated on cleaning him up, beginning with large circles and lots of suds that took care of most of the easily reached dirt build-up. He turned to the details, pressing the sponge into the small joints and twisting so the flecks of rock would be caught in the porous material and flicked out. In some places he would press his digit into the seam, scraping out the thicker clots of dirt before applying the sponge. Primus, he hadn't seen anyone so in-need of washing in ages.

He bent over as he worked, since the Eradicon's helm didn't even reach the bottom edge of his chest plating. In a passing moment he wondered if this was more intimidating to the drone than he realized, but asking was out of the question since he'd already chosen not to ask permission in the first place.

Slowly but surely, it dawned on KA-R1-302 that he was not going to be harmed. And once that fact had sunk in, he was able to acknowledge - just for an instant - that he'd never had a washing so thorough. It wasn't freedom and it wasn't safety, but it was a brief reprieve from the uncertainty of being an Autobot captive and he could work with it.

Offlining his sensory perceptors, he tried to place himself back on board the Nemesis - a fellow Vehicon's servos cleaning him so carefully and nothing to anticipate but the give of his berth. He scarcely realized when his helm began to tip forward.

When Optimus noticed the Eradicon nodding off, he decided to cut it short. He turned the nozzle for a slightly finer stream, which washed away the suds quickly and turned on the drying fan overhead. It wasn't nearly as powerful as the ones made with Cybertronian tech, but it would have him relatively dry in a few minutes. He looked at the drone, whose optical visor seemed especially dim with exhaustion, and hoped that Ratchet had left the cube of energon in his holding cell.

"Are you ready to return?"

KA-R1-302 jerked his helm upright, vision onlining, realizing with distant horror how close his systems had been to powering down. His servos were still cuffed and he was still in the Autobot wash rack, but the filth that had been caking him was gone and with it, strangely, a certain hopelessness. He also noted that the static in his processor was gone.

"I...er, yeah. I am."

Ratchet stood by the cell door, fuming. His optics brightened when he saw Optimus and the captive Eradicon turn a corner. "Thank you for letting me know you were going to leave," Ratchet said with irritation. "For all I knew he'd escaped and you ran off after him."

Optimus accepted his irritation with patience and took the cube of energon from the medic's hand. "I highly doubt you expected that."

Ratchet shook his helm. "Where were you, then?" he looked at the Eradicon accusingly. "You look remarkably clean."

The Vehicon glared back at him, knowing that it would be wisest to let the remark slide. Bath or no bath, he wasn't in any less danger than he'd been all those cycles ago; at the same time, he also wasn't about to stand there and go meek just for a potential energon cube. "Probably because I am clean." He didn't even want to tell him that Optimus had been his escort there, let alone the one to wash him. In truth, he wasn't sure if he believed it himself.

Ratchet glared at him for a moment before turning to Optimus. "So you've let him clean up and now you're refueling him. What's next, a pede rub? Should I grab him a spare berth mat so he can recharge comfortably? I mean we wouldn't want our captive Decepticon to be in the least bit uncomfortable."

Optimus would have preferred Ratchet to keep his comments out of the Eradicon's audioshot, but it seemed there was no stopping the medic when he was truly irritated. At least two could play this game, and he did have rank on his side. He nodded approvingly. "That's a good idea, Ratchet. If you would grab one of the berth mats out of storage, I would greatly appreciate it."

Without further delay, Optimus steered the vehicon back inside and left Ratchet gaping in the hall.

Internally, the Vehicon was gaping as well. Even in light of the strange peace he'd felt in the washroom, this was becoming too much to possibly be real. Bots who took prisoners treated them like prisoners, which he supposed to could mean any number of things, but this certainly wasn't one of them. It had to be deliberate, he thought. Some means of softening him up until he offered information willing. That was the logical answer, and would have been a clever strategy at that...it was the only reason.

"Why?" he asked, staring up at the Autobot. He listened for the sounds of Ratchet's footfalls disappearing down the hall before he went on. "Just...why? I'm not going to talk either way, so you may as well just keep me on the floor."

Optimus took out the key to the stasis cuffs and unlocked the device, setting it on a nearby storage crate. He considered the question. "It is because I am an Autobot. I've captured you, yes, and I'll do my best to learn what I can from you. But to torture information out of you would change who I am. I would no longer be able to confidently draw the line between myself and Megatron, or any other mech who ceased to hold themselves accountable for their actions. So to begin with, you are standing here untouched because I am confident in who I am. But I suppose moral obligation doesn't extend to hospitality. So why then, should I keep you off the floor?"

He thought about it, trying to answer the question in his own mind. His motivation wasn't something he could easily admit. It was a simple desire to show the soldier a few basic comforts before sending him into Megatron's merciless hold. With the Decepticon Lord, it was easily possible for him to offline the drone rather than to bother his medic with the post-interrogation repairs. He held the cube of energon and had to wonder if it might be the drone's last.

Optimus's expression had grown morose, and he shook his helm to rid himself of the mood. He held the cube out for the Vehicon to take. "Perhaps I'll leave that question unanswered."

KA-R1-302 couldn't explain the cold chill that ran across his censors as he took the energon, but he knew it didn't stem from any threat in the Autobot's demeanor. Rather, it was something in the pity he felt behind those optics...it reminded him of the med bay assistants, coming down to the drone quarters after a long, hopeless night. He did his best to hide his discomfort, giving a small shrug and rotating the stiffened cables of each wrist.

"Fair enough."

Pulling off the corner to drink, he paused to wonder about the contents - they could have very easily been tampered with. And then, just as quickly, he decided that there was no point in pondering it. If it was drugged, it was drugged; he was already here and they could just as easily do what they wished, whether or not he took the cube. With that in mind, he tipped the first portion of blue liquid into his mouth port, the smooth charge like nectar to his starved systems.

Optimus leaned against the wall and watched with mild interest as the drone refueled. He was glad, at least, that he wasn't refusing energon. That would be something Optimus wouldn't stand for, and would undoubtedly lead to a struggle and Ratchet's assistance in forced refueling. But more, it was the drone's will to live that made him glad, even if he didn't have a reason for being glad of it.

Thoughts of his character brought Optimus back to the caves, and how the drone had run from him into the darkness of an unused pathway. And that's when a thought occurred to him. He turned to face the drone. "Tell me, when I chased you from the main cave, why did you choose the direction that you had? You could have just as easily fled to the aid of fellow Eradicons, armed and in greater numbers, and yet you chose a dead end and seemingly certain death."

"I'm a Vehicon," KA-R1-302 replied simply. "When you're a Vehicon, you do what you can. If I can't shoot, then I can keep you off of the other miners' back struts while they slip away."

He took a long sip of energon, thinking of the other drones and what they would be doing just then. Normally, the answer would be recharging; however, news of any Decepticon being taken alive by Autobots was sure to spread throughout the ship and spread fast. He doubted Megatron would take the threat seriously, not for a crippled miner with no real intel to speak of, but the Vehicon rumor mill would be another story ...they didn't have to know him personally to take an interest in his situation.

Optimus' mouth parted slightly as he listened. He smiled, forgetting pretenses as he looked down at the drone admiringly. "How selfless of you."

The Vehicon paused with the cube halfway to his mouth, glancing up. "It worked, didn't it?"

"It did," Optimus agreed.

Optimus didn't know too much about Eradicons on a personal level, but he hadn't expected something like this. He had anticipated waves of anger, outbursts, struggles and attempts to escape, whether or not the captive was in any physical shape to do so. He'd expected a presence that didn't recognize its surroundings for what they were, one who remained either hostile or skittish even when they were not in obvious danger. That was what he'd experienced in his history of captive Decepticons.

Even when Commander Starscream had been in this situation, cuffed at Optimus' mercy, he'd cowered away from him on his knees, groveling pitifully and lying through his denta. But this drone stood here beside him, drinking at his own leisurely pace, having understood well enough that there was no immediate threat to his life.

Optimus tried to contain the fascination in his expression as he stood from the wall and took a step closer. "What is your name?"

The Vehicon drummed a digit lightly against the side of his energon cube. He had assumed this question would arise at some point. If anything, he'd been expecting it to come up sooner, although he wasn't sure if the Autobots were even aware of drone designations. In any case, he didn't see how offering it was detrimental to Megatron's plans. "KA-R1-302."

He resisted the urge to move away from Optimus's step forward. There was no reason to give off any additional signs of fear or discomfort; he was sure he'd displayed enough weakness already.

"KA-R1-302," Optimus repeated, puzzled with being told a designation code. "And what do your friends call you?"

The Vehicon paused, reflecting on the name his friends had given long ago, even before the accident. In happier times. "They called me Karl."

"You say it in past tense," Optimus said, "Is that because you still believe you're not going to survive here, or is it something else?" A thought occurred to him that perhaps the drone's friends had been offlined, and he drew back a step because of the likelihood that he had been the cause if it were so.

"It's both," was the reply. As nonchalant as he tried to sound, the subject of his companions was never one he liked to get into, even with the other Vehicons. "I don't like to 'believe' I'll survive any day. It just sounds presumptuous, you know? Too many things that could happen."

Gears turned in Optimus' processor. "What if it doesn't have to be that way?"

The door slid open, interrupting his train of thought.

Bulkhead stepped through the door, a berth pad slung beneath his arm. "Got some padding for our new Decepti-ohh..." Instantly, he realized his mistake. "You've, um...you've got him out of the cuffs." He quickly passed the padding to his leader, awash in an awkwardness that had nothing to do with the Vehicon staring at him.

"I thought it safe enough to let him refuel on his own, rather than doing it myself," Optimus replied. He was glad that his spontaneous thought had been cut off, which would give him time to discuss the idea with his comrades. He took the berth pad from Bulkhead and set it against the wall. "I'll leave this for you to place it where you prefer," he said to the drone before following Bulkhead to the door. "Recharge well, Karl."

The heavier Autobot was still looking at him as he left. When he was gone, the Vehicon knew that he would be left with the energon cube, the pad, and the sound of his own, still functioning spark. Whether it was some small display of defiance towards Bulkhead and his expectations or a simple matter of exchange - one small courtesy for another - Karl gave Optimus a single nod, as he would have given any fellow Vehicon who was bidding him good night.

Optimus shut the door and coded in the lock. "I know that you've only seen him for a moment or two, but you must have some opinion formed. You saw how mild-mannered he was. That's strange for a captive Decepticon, don't you agree?"

Bulkhead set his jaw hinge tight, looking the locked door over as though doubting its strength. "Do you want my honest opinion? It doesn't matter how mild-mannered he is. No prisoner's going to spend every second kicking at the walls - eventually they settle down, maybe even seem like nice bots. I think he's just waiting for his chance."

Optimus nodded, brow plating drawing together. "I am too trusting. Arcee was hurt when I chose to believe Starscream could begin again. You'd think I would learn, but here I am contemplating this drone's fate. But even so, there is something different about Ka- …this one. I want to discuss it with everyone tonight."

Bulkhead nodded. While everything about this felt deeply wrong to him, a simple discussion was just that. There would be time to argue out the Decepticon's fate later. "Arcee's on her way back right now."

Soon after, the Autobots assembled in the central room. Optimus resisted pacing before he began.

"It has been a long day for us all, but I think it's best not to postpone the discussion of the Decepticon soldier locked up downstairs. I'm sure you're all wondering just why I decide to take him, and I'll admit that it was a spontaneous move. His behavior in the caves was just different enough to intrigue me, and I thought that perhaps it would be an opportunity to gain Decepticon intelligence if we took him back with us. Even if he isn't an officer, he knows far more than we do about the daily functioning of the ship and its inhabitants. But it seems he is not as easily persuaded as I had imagined an Eradicon soldier to be. And then, the more I learned, the more potential I saw in him.

'Potential for what?' Bumblebee chirped.

Optimus knew this was when he would sound the craziest. "The potential for him to join us as an Autobot."

Somehow, it sounded even worse when it was said aloud. Bulkhead looked away, unsure of how to respond...he didn't even know where to begin.

Arcee's facial plating was indecipherable. She held up a single digit. "Optimus? Permission to speak freely?"

"Yes Arcee, of course."

"That's the stupidest idea to ever be uttered in this base." Only the direst of circumstances, with words like "Eradicon" and "join as an Autobot" being thrown about, could ever induce her to use a term such as "stupidest." She went on levelly, ignoring Bulkhead's visible wince. "Our energon reserves are still limited...it's one thing to keep a prisoner, but taking in an Eradicon permanently? Sparing the time to try and convert him? The Decepticon drones are loyal in the blindest possible way...we'd never

be able to fully trust him."

"With all due respect," Ratchet said, eyeing Arcee, "I agree with Arcee on the issues with this plan. Firstly, he's at the bottom of the ranks, and he probably won't have enough intel to make it worth our time. And you know as well as I do that Eradicons are more of a point and shoot type than a group of deep thinkers. I don't think we could reason with him. Not to mention that he is a Vehicon, and a disabled one at that. What makes you think he will last any longer with us?

"We all started somewhere," Optimus said. "When I worked in the Hall of Records I had less skill fighting than a rescue bot. Karl has years of battle behind him, and I believe proper training from one of us could make him rise to the occasion, even just on a defensive level."

"Karl?" Ratchet said incredulously. "Bulkhead, you must agree with Arcee and me on this."

Bulkhead scratched the back of his helm, clearly put on the spot. "I...get what you're saying, really. That anyone can learn to work on the battlefield, no one's completely hopeless...but...I've gotta stick with Ratchet and Arcee on this one. It's not like we've got a Con who's been helping us, ready to switch sides, and now it's just a question of letting them in. He's a prisoner who stopped kicking and screaming a little sooner than usual. We don't even know if he wants any of this."

Optimus nodded. There were so many logical reasons to change his mind, but he kept going back to the caves, remembering a lone vehicon sacrificing himself for his comrades, leading the leader of the enemy into a dead end with full knowledge that he would probably be killed. It just seemed wrong to let a mech like that slip through his fingers, to not at least make the offer. Karl was just what Optimus would want on his team. But he knew that he couldn't let his spark lead him all of the time. Even if he wanted Karl to stay, he couldn't risk his team's safety over it.

"I suppose you're right," Optimus said. "Perhaps the risk is too great."

Bumblebee let out an annoyed beep, catching their attention. 'What, nobody wants to hear my spiel? I may be the young guy, but come on.'

Arcee turned towards their youngest member, helm tilted. Bumblebee may have indeed been young, but he wasn't without a certain unique perception. Whatever his input on this situation turned out to be, chances are it would be something that the rest of them hadn't considered. And in the end, that was the reason Optimus had gathered them all here. "We're listening. You're not really in favor of keeping the Decepticon, are you?"

Bumblebee shrugged. 'I just don't think we should talk about him like he's a mindless drone. They get called that, but we all know they're not really drones. They're like any other mechs, some are clever and some aren't. They can be angry or lonely or bored, and they can even fall in love.' Bumblebee looked around at his comrades, suddenly a little embarrassed. 'I mean, I think they're probably like that. Well anyway, I think we could give this guy the option and see what happens. But it has to come with stipulations. He tells us some Decepticon intel, something he thinks would really matter, and we tell him something we don't want the Cons to know. You know? A trade.'

Arcee considered this, "Of course they aren't mindless drones. Like I said, blind loyalty...which is in a lot of ways worse. They can think and they can plan." She fully believed that the Vehicon being held below the base was doing just that - planning, even as they stood around discussing.

Bulkhead chimed in with a new line of thought. "Even if we do make him an offer...what if he's not biting? If he's too loyal to the Decepticons to consider joining us? Do we just...give up and find a way to work him over without actually hurting him?"

"That was my plan," Optimus said to Bulkhead, "My original intent was to question him and find out what we could before releasing him. After all, he could be categorized as a worker rather than a soldier now. And while doing this, he could be offered the option."

The remaining Autobots looked at one another, but at that point, there was little reason not to at least attempt the offer. Even if there had been, Optimus always had a way of making the hopeless seem brighter, the outrageous feasible, the impossible within reach.

The group dispersed for the night. As he recharged, Optimus' processor created nonsensical visions of running through the caves, searching for something and becoming lost in the process.

To be continued.


	3. Coolant

Chapter 3

He onlined the next morning with a feeling of dissatisfaction. He sat up in his berth, surprised to find his internal clock reading 9:24 AM, later than he usually onlined. The rest of the Autobots would already be out and about.

'Ratchet,' He commed, 'Please prepare the medical bay, I'd like you to assess the damage to the Eradicon's T-cog and determine the extent of it.'

'Alright,' Ratchet commed back without question, 'Bring him in, I'll be ready by the time you do.'

Optimus carried a cube to the locked storage room, interest rising again in anticipation of interacting with the Eradicon. He unlocked the door and stepped inside.

Karl had been awake since the sunrise, lying quietly on his berth pad and listening to whatever sounds he could catch of the Autobot base coming to life. Every time the clank of pedes on metal flooring had neared his door, he'd braced himself, and every time those pedes had walked on by. But when Optimus drew close to the cell, he'd known without a doubt that they would be speaking. By the time the door had opened, he was sitting upright.

He took the Autobot leader in at a glance, only slightly surprised to find another cube of energon in his servo. Once again, he inclined his helm in a small, noncommital nod of acknowledgement.

"Good morning," Optimus said as he came to Karl and passed him the cube. He began to walk to the door again. "I'm afraid you'll have to refuel as we walk." He hesitated for a moment. "I trust you won't need the cuffs. I promise that running won't get you anywhere anyway."

Karl remembered the uncomfortable fog that had come on with the cuffs' application. If he could get from one location to another without them, he wasn't going to let personal suspicion get in the way. "Fine with me." He stood up, taking a quick drink from the cube before falling into step along with Optimus.

Optimus led Karl through the base and to the central room, and then finally to the medical bay. Ahead he saw Ratchet look up from the equipment he was setting out.

Karl took one look at the med berth and the equipment laid out on it. He looked up at the Autobot leader, set his near empty cube down on the nearest table, and spoke flatly. "I'm not getting on that."

"You will not be tortured," Optimus said, "but I am afraid the exam is nonnegotiable." He watched Karl's frame tense and prepared himself for possible retaliation.

Karl stared at him for a moment longer. The tools set down besides the berth weighed against the hopelessness of resisting in his mind. In an instant, he'd turned to run.

Karl darted back, but Optimus' sheer size and arm span were enough to grab him. Optimus pulled him back, careful not to damage the thrashing Vehicon as he tried to restrain him. He put one arm around him and then the other, holding Karl's arms down against his sides, Optimus' chest plating against the Vehicon's back.

"There is no point in resisting," he said, not really expecting it to make a difference. He dragged him to the medical bay and glanced at Ratchet, but there was no way the medic could sedate someone while they were thrashing so hard, nor did Optimus really want to sedate him at all. So he backed up against the examination table and sat on top of it, pulling the struggling Vehicon up in front of him to sit between his knees.

"Will this do, Ratchet?"

"That'll be fine," the medic replied. At the current angle of Optimus' restraint, he had clear access to the eradicon's t-cog site. He passed the scanner over the area steadily, ignoring the thrashes and muffled curses.

The Vehicon growled, trying to connect at least one kick to Ratchet's faceplate. "You're making a big mistake, Autobot. Don't think I need my weapons to break a few of your denta -"

"Next time, Optimus, might I suggest keeping the stasis cuffs on?" After feeding the results of the scan into the computer for processing, Ratchet picked up a long, thin needle on the end of a hand held computer. "You may want to look away from this." Karl's struggling only intensified. As quickly as he could, Ratchet inserted the device into his side. The Vehicon, for his part, attempted to fight back a groan of pain - an effort that came a moment too late.

Optimus felt a wave of guilt as the Vehicon flinched against him. He had promised this wouldn't be torture, but the difference between torture and a medical examination could simply be relative when pain was involved. He was no expert in medicine, and hadn't expected this. He spoke against Karl's audio with a lowered tone, not wanting to disturb Ratchet's concentration. "Karl, I suggest you cease struggling before you break that needle off inside of you. Everything is going to be fine."

Karl's pain receptors were on fire, his HUD lighting up with small red lights. Optimus's voice may have been low and soothing, but all he could feel at the moment was a burning hatred for both Autobots. He gasped on his intakes as the tip of the needle entered his damaged t-cog, lighting up the device in Ratchet's grasp. "G..get rusted..." He offlined his visuals, trying to place himself somewhere miles from the pain. In the process, his struggles slowed.

"Ratchet? Anything?" Optimus asked, knowing he was being impatient.

Ratchet withdrew the needle, focused on reading the results. "The cog is only partially functional. It's capable of receiving the charge, but the transmission paths seem to be collapsed...consistent with blunt trauma."

Karl collapsed against the large frame holding him, overwhelmed by the sheer relief that accompanied a sudden lack of agony.

Optimus felt a sense of sympathetic relief at the feeling of the Vehicon's tension being eased. "Is there anything that can be done?" he asked the Doc.

"A transplant is an obvious one," said Ratchet, loathe to even bring up an option that was so drastically out of the question. "More realistically, an operation to clear the transmission paths and replace any damaged transmitters...but the odds of it actually working are uncertain, to say the least."

Karl's hopes didn't even begin to rise. The damage had been too severe, he had heard Knock Out say it himself. He kept his visor offlined.

"Thank you, Ratchet," Optimus said, "I think that will be all for the moment." He let one arm fall, but kept his other servo on the Vehicon to discourage him from trying anything. Finally he slid back and shifted so that they could stand.

The pain in Karl's side started up again, and with it came the static. He held onto the side of the berth to avoid leaning on Optimus, too shaken to even think of running again. All he wanted was the berth pad in his room, or any dark place that allowed him to lay down undisturbed…it was more than he dared to hope for.

Optimus looked him over. "Would you like to stay here and rest or return to your room?"

Karl glanced up, finally onlining his visor. "I have a choice?"

"The exam was necessary," Optimus said, hearing the distain in Karl's tone. "I assure you it's for your own wellbeing." Not to mention that he wouldn't want Bulkhead training him if it was going to cause something in the drone to rupture. Though Bulkhead wasn't really the one he had in mind. "So would you like to stay or go?"

Knowing that further lashing out at Optimus would neither undo the mandatory exam nor take away the pain in his side, Karl bit back his personal opinion of it all and focused on his options. He shook his helm, trying to clear away some of the static. "Go...I'd really like to go. I mean."

Optimus nodded and headed out, allowing the Vehicon to follow. They walked along, and Optimus tried to work up the nerve to ask what was on his mind. "Your injury… it was obviously aggravated by the exam. I've seen a similar exam performed on one of my autobots with far less of a reaction. It made me wonder, does your T-cog give you chronic pain?"

"Sometimes," Karl offered reluctantly. As they drew closer to his cell, the prospect of resting tempted him to elaborate. He didn't want to have to answer with the berth pad a foot away from him, just out of reach. "It's not the T-cog...I've had more than one scrape. That's all it is."

"Perhaps when you're feeling better you could elaborate. That may have been a trying experience just now, but I promise that Ratchet is as skilled a medic as they come, older and more experienced than your previous medic. With so many mechs becoming injured on the Nemesis, I am sure that Knockout must overlook maladies that aren't dire, things that Ratchet has the time to properly focus on. You may have resigned yourself to live with maladies that could be repaired."

That gave Karl pause. It was true that getting into the med bay was something of a process by itself; that even with the assistants being called in, there was only so much care a Vehicon could receive. He shook his helm again. It was all too good to possibly be true. There was no way his cure lay in a simple switch of medics. "I think you're underestimating how messed up this body is. If our medic doesn't have the resources to fix it, there's no way your doc does."

"Resources, perhaps not. But time and focus, yes. Would you at least agree to a consultation?" Optimus asked as they reached the door. "I promise to have Ratchet warn you next time he wants to perform something invasive." He unlocked it and gestured for Karl to enter.

"I'll take what I can get," Karl said as he stepped inside. He was prepared to lie down and recharge for the rest of the day, but the curiosity that had been creeping into in his processor refused to be ignored. "...Hold me down one nanoklik, offer me repairs the next. Looks like I'm never going to figure you out."

A smile spread across Optimus' face, and he felt a strange reluctance to leave. But he had to; there were too many things to be done. He turned to the controls by the door and typed into it. "I'm leaving for a good part of the day. If you need anything just press the white button and someone will come. Otherwise, I will be returning when my work is finished. Then, perhaps you can speak with Ratchet. There is also another matter I would like to discuss with you, but it can wait until you're more energized."

Karl stopped halfway to the berth pad, looking back at the Autobot. He would have taken any opportunity to put off interrogations and discussions, and he knew it was illogical to go seeking them now, but there was something in Optimus's tone that made him think this secondary topic did not involve Decepticon intelligence. "…What kind of matter?"

Optimus' mouth hung open slightly and he realized the mistake in mentioning it now. He shrugged a shoulder nonchalantly. "Simply… further questioning in terms of intel." The corner of his mouth twitched. He wasn't a skilled liar nor was he a fan of it, even if it was a harmless one. He nodded locked the door, rubbing the back of his neck as he headed down the hall.

Karl was reasonably adept at reading the emotions of other Eradicons; there was so much that came through the seeming lack of expression. When it came to officers, not so much - and when it came to Autobots, he had no experience whatsoever. Despite this, he knew very well that he was being lied to. Lying down on the berth pad, he could only offline his visor and wonder what the truth may have held.

The day went by at a sluggish pace for Optimus. Agent Fowler had informed him of a raid on a nearby military base, and needed him to analyze the damage to determine if it was Decepticon, M.E.C.H. or otherwise. And in the middle of his analysis, Ratchet commed him about Decepticon signals being detected fairly close to the base. He and the other Autobots had to find out if it was a coincidence or if their jamming signal was malfunctioning. In the end they found no signs that the Decepticons were after them and that it was likely coincidental that they were in the area, and Optimus returned back to the military base to finish his analysis before coming home.

He entered the base and found Ratchet at the controls. "Welcome back," Ratchet said.

"Thank you," Optimus said, and made himself wait a moment before jumping to the question of what Karl had been up to in his absence, if anything. "Did he make any requests while I was gone?"

The medic looked up from his controls. "Arcee brought him an energon cube, but it was still there when we last looked in on him a cycle ago. Either he's going on some kind of hunger strike or he's just plain sulking." He shook his helm in disgusted disbelief. "Unless he's only accepting hand feedings from you, now."

Optimus shook his helm, "I can understand if he would become especially trusting of me; we have had the most contact. However that won't do. I would prefer he learn to trust us all." Optimus walked out, internally chastising himself for feeling more embarrassed by Ratchet's comment than he should be.

A few minutes later he was unlocking the door to the storage room.

Karl, who had been lying on the berth pad, sat up as Optimus entered. The static in his helm had cleared and so had most of the aches in his frame, but his last counter with the Autobot had yet to slip from his memory. He rubbed the back of his neck, looking up almost expectantly at his captor. The energon cube, sure enough, sat untouched beside the pad.

Optimus looked at Karl and down to the cube, and came over to pick it up. The seal on the cube hadn't even been lifted. "I hope you rested well," he said, leaning against one of the empty crates across the small room. "Today was fairly hectic; there is so much to be done even without hand-to-hand combat." Optimus stopped, realizing that he was small-talking, something he rarely did. Changing the subject, he tilted the cube. "You're not hungry?"

Karl had no intention of telling the truth...not when it sounded so outlandish. He couldn't just say that the energon Optimus brought him had yet to be tampered with and that he wasn't keen on accepting it from anyone else - even he could pick apart the faulty logic behind that. And so he gave the mildest of shrugs, barely glancing at the untouched cube. "Shockwave didn't build us to guzzle energon. We don't need much."

Optimus nodded, but couldn't shake off what Ratchet had said. Perhaps Karl really wasn't in need of refueling, but he needed to make sure that he learned to trust the other Autobots in case that was the problem. So to prove that it wasn't tainted, he opened the cube and took a sip. He set the cube down and stood. "Well, let me know when you feel like refueling and I will provide you a new cube. I think now would be a good time for your consultation, if you're willing. Ratchet's work load is light at the moment."

Ratchet waited in the small alcove that served as his sick bay, all of the records he'd obtained from Karl laid out across the computer screen. In particular, an image of the drone's t-cog had been enlarged. He waited to speak to Optimus, unsure of how to best deliver this kind of news - especially considering their leader's recent behavior. Optimus had always leaned towards the side of gentle acceptance, but it had gotten ridiculous, in the medic's opinion.

Optimus finally walked in with Karl. He stood off to the side to stay out of the way while Ratchet and Karl spoke.

Ratchet shot several glances at Optimus, clearly preferring to speak with him about this issue. When no reply was forthcoming, he reluctantly turned his attention to the Vehicon. "Let's not start by mincing words. The damage is very severe."

"Inoperable," Karl replied. "I know. Our medic's told me that much. More than once."

"And I'm not telling you that," Ratchet went on curtly. "There is a chance that I could repair your t-cog, and your weapons system along with it. If you're interested in not only listening, but being completely honest about your medical past, then I'll elaborate further."

The Vehicon stared at him, trying to find the downside in doing this. Try as he might, he couldn't find one. "Alright. Yeah, I can do that."

Optimus shifted where he stood, interested in hearing what Karl had to say. He only knew that Karl had been through more than one injury, and was curious to hear the extent of them. The possibility of even repairing Karl's weapon system was new news to him, and he had mixed feelings about it. Of course repairing him was good. But as soon as his weapons system was back online, Karl would have to be returned to stasis cuffs until he made his decision. Optimus probably should have already made the offer, but he couldn't bring himself to do it yet. He knew deep down that at this point Karl would undoubtedly choose to leave, and he just didn't want to hear it.

Ratchet indicated the t-cog's image. All along the upper right hemisphere, thin lines of black ran irregularly, like the runoff of ashen rain. "These are the transmission paths of your t-cog. Rich in transmitters, they connect the cog to certain sensory lines which in turn extend up to your neural processor. They decipher which signals transmit to your weapons system and which trigger your shift into alt-mode.

Normally, they're protected by the other shell of the cog...however, you were struck at just the right angle and with enough force to destroy these particular paths. I can enter, remove that portion of shell, and lay down a new set of lines."

Karl listened. "Sounds easy enough. It isn't, is it?''

"I've put the odds of success at a rough 40%."

40% wasn't ideal, but Optimus had seen Ratchet overcome greater odds. "But there must be other benefits to rewiring even if the procedure is unsuccessful, wouldn't there?" Optimus asked. "Perhaps if only smoothing out his shift into alt-mode?"

"It would," Ratchet acknowledged. "Although we can't rule out the possibility of complications. We're talking about delicate surgery after all, and if something goes wrong, the entire t-cog could be rendered useless." He caught the Vehicon flinch in a manner resembling a cringe. "I'm only being realistic."

Karl hated how tempted he remained, even after hearing something so bleak. "Those odds...is there any way to boost them up?"

"Another scan would better show me what I have to work with. Also, your inability to transform - is it the only effect you suffered after the incident? No other signs of pain, numbness?"

Karl hesitated. "There was a cave-in. After they'd put me down in the mine...ever since then, I've had aches and pains all over my frame. That and this static that's always starting up behind in my helm, usually at night...usually before the aches start." He couldn't think of anything else specific. "Pretty sure that's it."

Ratchet closed down the imagery.

"...I think we need to run a more thorough exam."

Optimus remembered the thrashing and whimpers Karl had let out during the previous exam. And he couldn't forget the anger in his words. He looked at Karl tentatively. "Is that something you're ready for?" he asked.

Karl's memory banks were glowing, flooded with the hot desert sun and the smell of gunfire, proof that he had once been a soldier, that he had loved being one. And now, the chance to be one again was within his grasp. It would have sounded too good to be true, if not for the bleak odds. If anything, the chance of failure just made it all the more obtainable, something tantalizingly real. "...Just...just tell me honestly. Do I really have a choice?"

It wasn't the first time Karl had asked him this. He looked at him pointedly. "I can take you back to your room right away, if you so desire, and you will not be brought into the medical bay again."

Karl looked from Optimus to a rewelded seam above his knee. He knew he couldn't hesitate too long, and for once, he didn't have too.

"Then I'll do it."

Optimus stepped aside to allow Karl to climb onto the examination table on his own accord. He turned to Ratchet. "Should I go? I don't want to distract you."

Ratchet noticed the way Karl tensed, barely even visible, but the medic had always been perceptive. He frowned and sent Optimus an internal commlink._ 'You won't be distracting me. I think your Vehicon wants you to stay and hold his servo while he takes his shots.' _Even via commlink, the disdain was palpable.

Optimus' optics narrowed, disapproving of Ratchet's continued insubordination, not that he could really stop him. "Well?" he asked, reminding Ratchet to respond outwardly.

Suspecting he may have been toeing the line with his old friend, Ratchet edged off. "That would be your choice, Optimus. It's no distraction to me either way."

Optimus continued to watch Ratchet as he stepped closer to the exam table and held out a servo for Karl to come. It was quite normal to assist the smaller variety of frames, since the table was built to accommodate large mechs such as Optimus and Bulkhead. He turned to face Karl, his expression shifting from stern to neutral as he continued to hold out his servo.

Karl had been thinking of the coming exam; in its looming shadow, a calm face and a servo held out to him were more comforting than anything else would have been. Although he could have easily made it onto the table himself, he allowed Optimus to help him, giving a quiet grunt of thanks as he took the larger mech's servo.

He had to admit, the look in Ratchet's optics was priceless.

Optimus stood across the room as Ratchet worked, one scan after the next, asking an endless number of questions. He was glad to see Karl behaving compliantly, and despite the unruly comm message, Ratchet remained as professional as he always did. For a while Karl was asked to lie back, and Optimus felt himself tense as he remembered the needle.

The tentative chance of a cure, along with going unrestrained, ended up making a world of difference to Karl. He was able to lie there with his visor offlined - imagining that it was Knock Out examining him made the whole thing slightly easier to take. He flinched and hissed when the needle entered his side once more, gripped the table when it entered twice more from different angles, but otherwise remained still.

"That's all I need," Ratchet said when the last scan was completed. Karl lifted himself from the table, forcing his servos to stop their trembling. "I'll have the results by tonight."

They had little to say to one another as Optimus and Karl walked back to the storage room. Optimus felt the need to speak, but he couldn't think of anything significant enough to say and didn't want to disturb Karl's train of thought. His stance seemed uncomfortable, undoubtedly from the examination, and Optimus felt helpless. But then as they passed one of the stocked storage rooms he had an idea, and stopped inside to grab a bottle of coolant. They reached his door and Optimus entered with Karl, waiting for him to settle before he made the suggestion.

Karl eased down on the berth pad with a quiet sigh. When he noticed that Optimus was lingering in the room, he lifted his helm to look at him, voice as soft as it had been since his capture. "Yeah?"

Optimus hesitated for a moment before coming closer and kneeling beside Karl's berth. "If you will allow me, I can help you feel better. You just need to lie on your side... your right side."

Karl froze for an even longer moment. He tensed beneath Optimus's shadow like a cautious animal, a force of habit that he wasn't sure he could shake - even knowing how far he was from the threat of danger. Slowly he began to relax, shifting over and exposing his aching side. "Like this?"

"Yes, just…" Optimus lightly rested the ends of his digits on Karl's side, turning him very slightly. "The angle needs to be just right." He unscrewed the cap from the bottle. "I've found that coolant isn't only useful internally, but creates numbness…" He poured a small stream into the seams of Karl's frame, right over his T-Cog. The liquid flowed through the tiny gaps in the metal, the same gaps that Ratchet had pressed the needle into. Optimus tilted Karl's side farther to make sure it was flowing correctly, and poured a little more. It seeped into his system, harmlessly flowing over machinery until the coolant coated the aggravated areas of his T-cog.

At first, Karl could do little more than gasp. The pain was slipping, like a visible layer of filth being gently cleansed away. In return, a delicious sensation of coolness lay over the sore, heated places it had been. His visor offlined, every muscle structure going loose and relaxed as he basked in the comfortable chill. "That's...that's, um...oh..._wow_."

Optimus watched with satisfaction as Karl responded to it. But then, the longer he looked, the faster the electro pulses shot through his processor, gears turning in revelation. His optics trailed along the Vehicon's frame, along his side and up the curve of his hip and down his legs. His mouth fell open and his optics quickly returned to Karl's face. But his visor had offlined, sparing him. He looked down at his servo resting on Karl's side and quickly pulled it away, as if he'd been touching searing hot engine coils.

He fumbled to his pedes and took a step back, putting good space between himself and the reclined Vehicon.

The sudden lack of touch swiftly brought Karl to his senses. Optimus's servo had been heavy on his side, and he felt alarmingly exposed - even empty - without it. Fully aware of what had come and gone so quick between them, he straightened himself out, seeking any place to direct his gaze that wasn't the Autobot.

"Umm...thanks. Thanks, that helped."

Optimus nodded, not trusting is vocals to speak evenly. He stood there stiffly, then vented and finally spoke. "Well I'll be back in the evening to take you to Ratchet." He went to the door and stopped, realizing he'd almost forgotten the rest. "And in the meantime I will be away from the base. One of the Autobots will bring you your next cube and will be on call if you require assistance." He waited, wondering if there was anything else he needed to say. "Right then," he finally said in conclusion.

He headed out and locked the door, leaning back against it and rubbing his faceplating. 'Primus, what just happened?' he thought.

The fall of the lock was audible, and a massive relief. Karl lay back on the berth pad, covering his faceplating with his servos as he exhaled his ventilations. He was hopelessly lost now... every time he thought he'd figured out the Autobots, his role as captive, his entire _situation,_ something had come along to throw it all into question. He was tired of uncertainty, but more than anything else, he was terrified of the images that had flashed across his processor.

'Primus...what just happened?'

To be continued.


	4. Enter the Bee

Chapter 4

About an hour or two after Optimus left the base on business, Bumblebee made his way down the hall to the storage room where their captive Decepticon was being held. A utility trunk swung at his side, its contents jostling about as he went. Bumblebee gave a courtesy knock before unlocking the door and stepping inside.

With his pain chased farther than it had ever been before, Karl was up and about, milling around the cell without any particular place to go. Now and then, he'd paused to stretch his limbs, wanting to keep the flexible cables as limber as possible...there was no reason to grow sedentary and listless just because he was confined.

However, he stopped the moment Bumblebee entered the room, looking at the Autobot and waiting to see if he'd speak - or, like the blue femme had the previous day, leave an energon cube without a word.

Bumblebee leaned against the frame of the door and raised a servo. 'Welcome to the Hotel Autobot Base,' he wailed in a series of dramatic beeps, 'where everything is stolen from you or government funded. You can check-out any time you like, but you can never leave.' Bumblebee put his arm down and evened his tone. 'Or who knows, maybe you will leave. Anyway, I'm here to spruce you up.'

Bumblebee stepped inside to let the door close and started unloading the trunk filled with refurbishing equipment, cloths and containers of polish and wax.

Karl stared at the polishing equipment, his gaze slowly transferring back to Bumblebee. "I'm imagining things," he said bluntly. "I'm lying somewhere about to offline and this is all some kind of dream."

Bumblebee stopped his unloading. 'Sorry, I should probably be more serious,' he said. 'I'm here because Optimus told me to stop by and give you a shine-up. He did once mention something about personal upkeep increasing morale. So I guess while you stay he figures you should fit in. But I don't really know. I'm just doing what I was told.'

Speaking up close, it struck Karl just how young the Autobots' youngest member really was. That and the mention of Optimus set him somewhat at ease. "...Can't blame me, can you? Not long ago, I was expecting to be strapped down to that med berth and have my plating peeled off." He leaned back against the wall, shaking his helm. "Not being tortured, okay, I can see that. But...this?"

Bumblebee wondered if his scheme had been a bad idea. He'd been curious about him ever since Optimus became interested, but he didn't want to rely on his leader's opinion alone. After all, Optimus did once trust Starscream enough to consider letting him join.

So it came down to finding an excuse to visit. Bumblebee liked to keep himself looking good and knew all about how to do it right, so he'd thought it would be a good excuse. But when he looked at the Vehicon's skeptical stance now, he wondered otherwise.

'Uhm, yeah I guess I agree. Optimus gets carried away sometimes. I can leave if you're not into it, but this is good stuff: carna-something wax imported from Brazil. It'll be fun, we can… you know, chat and whatever.'

It finally hit Karl. Bumblebee's easy manner of speaking, equally free of excessive formality and unhindered roughness, reminded him of the other Vehicons - and that was more tempting than even Brazilian wax. "...Yeah. Alright. Chatting...no harm there." He stepped closer, unsure how Autobots even went about polishing one another or what Bumblebee wanted him to do.

"Although I'm not gonna lie. I've never had anything waxed before."

Bumblebee tried to keep a poker face during that last comment. It was more than evident that the Vehicons didn't come by wax often, and this one looked like he'd never seen a mirror in his life. 'No problem,' he said, handing the Vehicon a bottle of polish and a cloth. 'I'll do the waxing on your enamel plates, and you stick to the polishing on the bare metal, how about that? Now, just sit down on the floor here, we'll stay away from your berth or it'll get dirty.'

Bumblebee sat down along with the Vehicon, scooting closer to the box. 'At least we don't have to go to the wash racks since Optimus just gave you a scrub down. You can go ahead and get polishing, just rub until you're shiny.' He grabbed the tub of wax and unscrewed the lid, and dabbed the sponge with some of the soft wax. 'Here goes,' he said, just to warn the Decepticon before he put his servos all over him. He grabbed a shoulder to hold it still and began rubbing circles into it, slowly covering it. When one area was completed he grabbed the waxing cloth and rubbed it out. A small patch on Karl began to shine, the dull purple suddenly magnificent. He resisted saying anything, pleased with the idea that the Vehicon would be startled at the end.

'So, how great is it, being our captive?' he joked, 'Five stars, right?'

Karl rubbed the polish over his bare metal components, glad to have something active to do with his servos. Wax was a rare and frivolous commodity among the Vehicons, but the act of having someone assist you was comfortingly familiar. He watched patch after patch begin to shine through the wear of his plating, somewhat fascinated by it.

"If you knew what I've been expecting?" Karl replied, unsure if he should be admitting so much. "It kind of is."

He noticed that Bumblebee's overall touch was far gentler than Ratchet's, if not quite as gentle as Optimus's. He allowed the thought to linger, quickly shunting it away.

Bumblebee chuckled. 'Yeah, Optimus is pretty set in his ways when it comes to fair fights. But still, I thought they'd tie you to a chair and knock you around or something, not give you a wash and free health care. But Optimus sees things differently, and that's why he's the one in charge. I trust his intuition.'

Bumblebee wondered if he was pushing his luck, but he was too curious about Optimus' strange behavior on the way out of the base a short while ago. 'You know, he looked pretty distracted when he left today. Did you give him a stern talking to or something?'

"No," Karl said quickly. "No idea why he looked like that." He realized that this made perfect sense...the coolant incident had been strange and far too intimate, and Optimus must have realized how his behavior was coming across. That was why he had sent the scout down for this task. That must have been it. Karl told himself that the feeling settling over his spark was relief.

"It doesn't make sense," he confided, his voice low. "Why hasn't he knocked me around? It's not like I've told him something useful and all of this is my reward. I haven't told anyone anything."

Bumblebee continued over to his other shoulder. 'He's probably just trying to get you to give him the answer he wants. Knocking you around sure wouldn't do that.'

"But what makes him so sure this will?" Karl looked over his shoulder at him, then quickly away. "It's war. It's.._.not_ what you do."

'Yeah but obviously torturing you isn't going to-' Bumblebee stopped, and it suddenly dawned on him that Optimus hadn't asked him to join them yet. The Vehicon obviously had no idea, or why else would he still wonder about not being tortured? 'It isn't going to… solve anything.' Bumblebee sped up his rubbing. 'So, are you feeling cramped? When we're finished we could drive around in the sparring room. It's not big enough to hit some serious mph but it's big enough to burn a little rubber and stretch the axles. We could do donuts and stuff.'

The Vehicon perked up. He'd been so cramped, he was beginning not to even register it as a sensation, but something there in the background of his confined cycles. "They'd let you let me out? And into an actual room, moving around?" The thought of transforming brought another reality to light, and "Even if you could...your medic. Surgery..." He waved a servo above the site of his t-cog. "Would that really be okay?"

'You're supposed to take it easy _after the _surgery, not before, right?' Bumblebee had finished his shoulders and back, and shifted around to do Karl's lower legs. 'And yeah they'd let you out, because _I'm _one of 'they' and I'm letting you out.' He paused. 'We'll sneak you back before the Big Guy gets home.'

"This is the worst idea." Karl was once again glad he lacked an expression; he was sure he would be fighting a smile. As it was, his voice was brimming with one. "...I can't fight it! You raced our medic. How do I turn something like that down?"

'Oh Primus, and I am so ready to drive with someone new! There isn't exactly anyone on base who's interested casual driving with me. Knockout is a great challenge, but some of the fun gets lost when your competition is trying to snuff you out.'

Bumblebee worked on his second leg, the job coming to a close. 'So…' he started, finally feeling comfortable enough to ask. 'Ever heard of a Con named 404?'

Remembering his own job, Karl went quickly over his own bare metal with the polish. He tried to place the number, going through all the miners he worked with and all the soldiers he'd served besides. "404, 404...no, sorry. Is he one of the younger soldiers? I never got the chance to meet them all before...I mean, it just never happened."

'That's too bad; I thought we'd have a friend in common.' He finished up the waxing and closed the cap, then turned to Karl. 'That's my big secret, that I'm _'friends'_ with a Vehicon. I'm telling you because you're a Vehicon too, but you can't tell Optimus, or anyone else. None of them know.' Bee rolled his eyes. 'Though I'm sure 404's friends all know. He likes to brag.'

Suddenly it clicked with Karl, and it was all he could do to keep his voice down. He waved a servo about, bringing his digit to a sharp, excited point aimed at Bumblebee. "The big rumor going around! They said that one of the soldiers was sneaking around with an Autobot. That was you?"

Bumblebee covered his face for a moment. 'Eh, yeah. I'm _sneaking _around with him.' Bumblebee shook his helm. 'That big mouthed slagger. But they probably don't believe him, I'll take comfort in that.'

Karl capped the bottle of polish and handed it back to Bumblebee, along with the rag. "If it's any more comfort, we never did. We figured they were just throwing together stories up there, y'know? Heh...and 707, the guy who was in charge of loading? He always said someone had self-serviced to a picture of a truck, and word of mouth just turned it into an Autobot." He stopped himself, unsure if he'd just said something horribly tactless. "...Never thought it was one of those things that could really happen."

'I get it. It's pretty unlikely.' Bumblebee looked a bit downtrodden then. 'The thing that we've got, it's not easy. There's so much uncertainty. I won't join the Decepticons, not under Megatron. I'll spare you my feelings on him, since you're a Con and all. The only think keeping 404 from joining us is his best friend, who needs to be taken care of for some reason. So we're thinking, if we both survive the war, we'll make it work then.'

"I get you. It's just hard..." The Vehicon paused, unsure of what to say to something like that, because he certainly wasn't in a position to give comfort or advice. "I don't think it would be out of line to tell you that the Decepticons are just as ready for this to be over. Officers included. I mean, I'm sure you already know."

'I could guess.' The conversation was falling into a darker place, and Bumblebee knew if one of his comrades were here they would tell him to pipe down. But they weren't here. He looked at Karl seriously. 'See, here's why the Autobots have to win: If we win, Optimus will claim territory somewhere, here or maybe elsewhere, and accept any Decepticons who want to join him, and let the rest of them go off and try to survive on their own. But if the Decepticons win, Megatron will hunt down and kill each and every last Autobot he can find. Optimus know it; we all do, that he'll chase us to the end of the universe. Sometimes I can't recharge because I think about it, how we might just be unlucky enough for Megatron to keep us alive. I have these nightmares about it, what will happen to us.'

Bumblebee stood up and paced, trying to cool himself down. 'Never mind, forget it. I'm sorry. It's just… Not all of the Decepticons are as nice as you, Karl.'

Everything within Karl, every last lecture Shockwave had programmed into them, was telling him to keep his thoughts to himself. He leaned on his knee actuators, speaking without heat. "He knows it's not going to end as long as there are Autobots. That you won't back down and settle for a loss any more than he will." He looked up.

"He's got his own vision of what the world should be like...and I guess you've got yours. And really, who's going to settle for just surviving when they've each got the fate of the world on their backs?"

'His vision?!' Bumblebee stopped himself. He leaned against the wall, trying to look less hostile to the tense Vehicon.

404 had told him a little about what the Eradicon army had been raised on, how it had been filled with horror stories. But even though Bumblebee was more than old enough to hear the truth, 404 never wanted to tell him just what he'd been told. He felt guilty then, for going behind 404's back for the answers, but it was something he needed to know. 'What exactly do they tell you over there?'

"They told us all about the caste system. The eons of misery, poverty, bots in the lower rungs having their names blanked the moment they came out of the well. Torture and murder going on behind closed doors." He straightened up. "You may not work that way in this base, but it's what you fight for. I don't see how you can get around that."

Bumblebee's optics widened with surprise. 'I know about the caste system, but Megatron and Optimus were trying to end it together, not just Megatron. And torture? Listen. The Optimus Prime you've seen in the last few days, that's the same mech whose been running the troops since the start of the war. He would have never… that could have never happened. And he's not faking now. He can barely lie to make people feel better.' Bumblebee took a step closer, now that his voice had evened out. 'Just think about it. Pretend Optimus Prime was a bad, bad mech behind closed doors. Why would he spare a soldier who knew barely anything compared to one of the officers? If the Autobots are torturing mechs behind closed doors, then why aren't I torturing you? I mean, you're as closed in as they get.'

"You're also offering to take me into the sparring room and let me drive around," Karl pointed out. "Awfully nice of you to do, but you can't tell me it's the usual way of doing things, can you?" He tapped on the back of his own servo, thinking before continuing. "And let's just say Optimus Prime really is a decent mech. It doesn't make the system he's fighting for a just one, and if he doesn't think it's right, why has he been fighting a war to keep it?"

Bumblebee was getting more confused by the minute. 'I don't know what system you're talking about.' He watched Karl curiously. 'Have you even heard any of Prime's epic, gallant speeches about peace and equality?' Bumblebee raised his servos. 'I swear I've heard him say this stuff a hundred thousand times and it won't be the last. I know it all better than I know my own cereal number. _When we're created, our spark tells us to choose a path for ourselves, and choose what we become. And when we're confined to our station in life and forced into a role, it makes us sick and restless because it's against our very nature not to choose for ourselves._' His gaze met Karl's optical visor. '_And so, that is why freedom is the right of all sentient beings_. You can't tell me you've never heard that. That's Optimus' creed. That is what we fight for.'

"I've never heard any of it. Never once..." Shockwave's lectures had been thorough and Megatron's the epitome of empowering. He'd never heard of Optimus' creed or even known that he'd had one. Karl glanced away, then quickly back. "But that doesn't answer my questions. It can't be that simple. If that's all there is too it, then we want the same thing! Why are we fighting over..."

The sound of the door unlocking and the door opening cut him off. Arcee stepped in, a cube of energon in hand. She immediately frowned. "Bumblebee? You're still down here?" She eyed the wax and polish. "What are those?"

'Uh, I was just… you know, getting to know the resident Con.' Bumblebee pushed Arcee to the door, leaning close out of Karl's earshot. 'I'm almost done, can you just not tell Optimus? Here, I'll take that for you.' He took the cube and gently nudged her out with his hip. 'Thanks,' he finished before shutting the door in her face.

There was a long moment before the sounds of retreating pedes came to them. It seemed that Arcee had gaped at the closed door before deciding to go on her way.

Karl stared in half terrified silence. "You can do that kind of thing to each other? And you don't get threatened with decomission." He gave a low whistle through his intakes. "Optimus really does go easy on you guys..."

Bumblebee chuckled with chagrin. 'Well, Optimus isn't exactly here, is he? He would expect better from me, I guess. And as for Arcee, we've become like a family since we were separated from the other Autobots. We put up with each other. So uh, sorry for losing it before, I shouldn't have. Do you still want to go drive for a bit? We have time… and we don't have to play around.'

"No, it's fine. You didn't lose it, we were chatting. Like you said." Karl stretched his shoulder plates and found them to be no less stiff than when Bumblebee had first arrived. "That still sounds great, actually. If you're sure she's not going to be out there waiting for us."

'The benefits outweigh the risks,' Bumblebee said. He quickly threw the supplies back into the trunk. 'Oh by the way, Optimus doesn't actually know anything about this, I was kind of just using a wax job as an excuse to meet you. Heh, he's not going to believe it's you.'

Karl, who had stood up to flex his plating, stopped mid-stretch. "...Not sure why you'd want to meet me. There are other Vehicons that're lot more interesting."

'Well there aren't any other Vehicons staying at the Autobot base.' Bumblebee picked up the trunk. 'Alright Karl, let's get this show on the road.'

Karl shrugged. "Can't argue with that." And on that note, he followed Bumblebee out into the hallway.

The sparring room was large and bright, a relieving change from the storage room, which was sized more like personal quarters. Bumblebee goofed off, showing Karl how he'd learned to do a running flip into alt mode, and promising he'd teach him if Karl's surgery smoothed out his transformation. They sped and drifted, tires screaming through exhilarating turns.

It was clear that Karl would never match Bumblebee in speed, and his vehicle mode emitted a low rattle whenever he took a sharp turn. Under the bright, warm lights of the open room, he couldn't have cared less. He followed every instruction Bumblebee gave him and very nearly picked up the transformation flip. Eventually he was goading him mid-race, like a fellow Vehicon, and laughing all the while.

Throughout the day Optimus had tried to avoid thinking about the coolant incident, but it only made it worse. His actions had been so incredibly inappropriate. How could someone join sides with a leader who let his desires get the better of him? And that alone… that was something unfamiliar. Optimus was the type to repress his needs, and it had been a long, long time since anyone had even caught his attention. He couldn't keep back the memory of Karl relaxing beneath his servo, the relieved sigh escaping his vocals. Primus, Optimus was in trouble.

By the time he returned to base he was uneasy about seeing Karl again. When he reached the turn, he found himself thinking of something he could do first, something that needed to be done. He was rather dirty, a layer of dust and dirt clinging to him from a brief battle. So instead of right he turned left down the hall to rinse off.

As he walked down the hall he heard the roar of a pair of engines, one of which was unfamiliar. He stepped in front of the opened entrance to the sparring room and watched the scout and the Vehicon speeding around, and momentarily forgot his worries. He smiled, enjoying the sight of them tearing up the floor.

After countless laps around the outer parameter of the room, Karl found himself right on the scout's bumper. He gave a triumphant chuckle. "Got you now, Autobot..." He pressed down on his gas pedal, giving it everything he had as he took the corner -

And saw Optimus Prime standing in the doorway.

He skidded to a screeching hault, transforming back so fast it made his t-cog screech. His gaze shot frantically from Bumblebee to Optimus, thinking only of what they'd been doing and what it may have looked like, to say nothing of his roaming free in the base. He briefly thought of drawing his weapon or chancing an escape, but shot the idea down just as fast; this time, it simply wasn't an option.

Optimus blinked as he looked over the Vehicon. He tilted his helm slightly, not sure if it was his imagination making Karl gleam the way he was. The light flicked over him with his every move, his surroundings reflecting in distorted curves off the brilliant purple enamel.

"Karl," Optimus said with a quiet tone. "You look very nice."

The Vehicon froze, as though he couldn't believe what he were hearing. There was just no way. And then, in keeping with the day's patterns, he gave a reply that he couldn't believe he was_ giving_.

"Thanks. Er, so do you."

So do you. The instant he heard himself say it, Karl wanted to offline.

"I'll...just go back to the cell now?"

"Oh…" Optimus said, finally noticing Bumblebee again, "no, there is no need for you two to stop on my account. I'm on my way to the wash rack. I'll return afterward and bring you straight to Ratchet from here." Without waiting for a response, Optimus turned and started down the hall again. He didn't know what other foolishness would escape from him if he lingered near the drone any longer.

Karl waited until he could no longer hear the metallic shifts and groans of Optimus's body in motion. The Autobot leader's vocals replayed through his memory banks, every time as gentle and rolling as the last, with never a single catch to indicate insincerity. He saw that the sparring room door was still open.

"He knows," the Vehicon said, more to himself than to Bumblebee. "It's not whether I can or can't escape. He thinks I won't even try."

And deep in his spark, Karl knew that Optimus was right.

Upon witnessing the interaction between his leader and their captive, Bumblebee suddenly realized there was a world of something happening that he wasn't aware of.

To be continued!

Ahh, I had such warm feels writing this last part with Chai.


	5. Desert

Chapter 5

In the wash racks, Optimus pressed his servos against the wall, leaning forward as the spray sent streaks down his plating. On one hand, he was very fond of the Vehicon's character. Selflessness, bravery, endurance, intellect, everything he would want in a potential Autobot. And on the other hand, the Vehicon was creating wants in him he hadn't had before. There was a protectiveness that extended to the both of them, he wanted Karl safe for both Karl's sake and for his own contentment, for what it would do to him if anything happened. He wanted his presence, to have him in sight, to hear his voice. And there were other things that he would not even indulge in the thought of. Those things, he would not pursue. He turned down the temperature and let the water run cold over him until the remainder of the dirt had run down the drain.

A short while later Optimus returned with his composure restored. He stood in the entrance way to the sparring room and watched Bumblebee teach Karl how to get out of a choke hold.

"Karl, if you're ready, I can take you to see Ratchet."

Karl had known it was coming - the dream he'd long since given up on, and he still didn't fully know why the Autobots were attempting to grant it to him. The possibility of finding out was just one more incentive to survive the operation. He wasn't completely ready, but when it came to major surgery, he didn't think anyone ever was.

He nodded his helm. "I'm ready."

As they walked, Optimus wished that one of the more talkative of his comrades had been present as well, something to break the insufferable silence. When they were almost to the medical bay, he finally managed to speak.

"Are you nervous?"

Karl half-shrugged. "I've been in and out of our med bay so often, our medic is sick of me. It's nothing really new."

It was only a partial truth. Scans and systems checks were worlds away from surgery, and surgery by an unfamiliar medic in an enemy base at that. And besides, there was something else on his processor.

There was no denying that Optimus, along with Bumblebee, had been good to him. The possibility of offlining on the operating berth was very real...if it truly came to that, Karl wanted to say something that at least acknowledged these final cycles. Even if he had been suspicious of every kindness shown to him, he wanted them to know it was appreciated.

"Hey, um...I just want you to know."

The central room was before them, the med bay just beyond. Karl said the only thing he could possibly think of.

"...Thanks."

"You're welcome," Optimus said, not sure exactly what he was being thanked for, nor wanting to question him.

They stepped inside the medical bay and Optimus turned to Ratchet. "So what have you determined, and what course of action should we take?"

Ratchet looked up from his computer and across the empty med berth. A wide array of surgical tools were laid out on a table beside it. "The best news we could have hoped for, really. I've been able to rule out any other malfunctions that could increase the odds of complications." He straightened out the laser scalpel's positioning, neatly. "If you're still willing, we can perform the surgery right now."

It wasn't the same as improving his odds altogether, but Karl was prepared to take it. "Willing if you are." He climbed onto the med berth when Ratchet indicated him to do so, steeling his processor the way he always did before a difficult mining dig. Long ago, he'd used the same technique before a dangerous mission.

Optimus wished there were some way he could comfort Karl, but there was nothing to be done that would be appropriate, so he contained himself. At the very least, he could be here when Karl slipped into stasis.

The thick cable was attached to Karl's chestplate, quickly connecting with his systems. He heard the chime of stasis being induced and watched the room begin to swim, his visual feed of Optimus along with it.  
"Not...not so bad, really..."

His voice was heavy and slow, but there was a disoriented smile behind it. When he offlined his visor in an attempt to clear his vision, it did not light up again.

Optimus settled on the far end of the medical bay, out of the way of Ratchet's equipment. Despite the medic's insistence that the surgery would be long and that Optimus should find something else to occupy his time, he couldn't get himself to leave. He watched as the Vehicon's plating was folded open, undone at the hinges, marveling at Ratchet's coordination and speed of hand as he replaced wires and circuitry. At some points he was even working blindly, with long prongs buried out of the line of sight into Karl's still chassis.

Three hours later Ratchet closed the Vehicon up and undid the stasis cable to let him come online. Karl's visor didn't blink online and Optimus could only assume that it was like onlining from regular recharge, and wasn't an instant process unless provoked. So he came closer and quietly asked, "How do you think it went?"

The lights of Ratchet's scanner were passing over Karl's frame one last time, verifying that his signals were all normal. Evidently satisfied with what he saw, the medic switched it off. "The line's reopened and everything seems to be flowing correctly. We won't know for sure until he tests it." He began to sterilize his tools and put them away, never one to take chances on an alien world - or off it, for that matter.

"He'll come online soon, but you should have time to stretch your actuators, if you want."

He didn't say it aloud, but the implication was clear. In no way did he foresee Optimus leaving the room to stretch anything.

Optimus nodded in acknowledgement as he approached the table. Karl looked as if nothing had happened to him, no signs of any kind of surgery or intrusion on his mechanics. "I have delayed asking the question," Optimus confided in Ratchet, "but if his weapons system comes online, it will have to be asked and answered without delay. I am… apprehensive about it."

"That was the gamble we took in operating," said the older mech. To the outside world, there may have been no reason to ever be concerned about Optimus, but Ratchet always was. If it came down to firing on the Vehicon, or sending him out into the desert to face Megatron's wrath, he feared the impact left on his leader. Even if the pain never made it to the surface. "Even without his weapons system, I don't think it would be wise to delay asking any longer."

"I will ask him during the next opportunity," Optimus said, closing his optics. And there it was, the question set in stone for the imminent future, one which might as well include a 'goodbye'. He looked over at Ratchet who was facing away from them, busy returning his supplies to the designated areas. With a moment to himself, Optimus brushed his thumb against Karl's small servo.

One by one, Karl's sensors began to reboot. There wasn't much pain, only an overall sense of weakness that made him want to curl up beneath a tarp and slip back into recharge. Just as his short term memory banks were reloading, reminding him of where he was, he felt the touch of something against his servo. It was enough to make him push his visual feed online.

Optimus pulled his servo away when he felt the Vehicon shift. When he looked up at him Karl's visor had lit, and he couldn't be sure if he'd seen. With nothing to do about it, he put it out of his mind. "Welcome back. Are you in need of anything?"

"No, I'm fine. Thanks..." Karl sat up, putting the touch to the side of his processor; he would think about it later, if it had even existed at all. Gingerly, he pressed his right side, just above his t-cog. "How did it...how did it go?"

Optimus knew it was now or never. "Well you are alive, first and foremost. As for the results, Ratchet has told me you will need to test it to see. But," Optimus added quickly, "You must resist for a while longer." He turned to Ratchet. "I have to apologize for asking you to leave your own medical bay. As you have said, this cannot be delayed."

Ratchet simply nodded, exiting the room quietly and leaving Optimus to his task. Karl watched him go, all the while attempting to clear his processor for whatever came next. Evidently, it involved more than just resting.

Optimus looked at Karl with sincerity. "I'm sorry to put this upon you so suddenly, and I see now that it should have been asked before. But now that there is a chance that your weapons system may be functional, it can wait no longer." Optimus vented a breath and stepped closer. "In the short time that you have been here, I have been surprised one time after the next at your strength of character… and I… would be honored if you would stay and take up the title of an Autobot. You would be given fair status among the others and would be trained to your highest potential. You would be watched after by all of us, as we do for each other. As your leader, you would be guided to the best of my ability, and without fear of punishment for mistakes. As your leader I would risk my life on your behalf. But until you make your decision, if your weapons system is indeed functional, it is my duty to my comrades to keep you in stasis cuffs until you decide. If you choose to stay, you will be welcomed and eventually exposed to important Autobot intelligence, which is why your decision must be permanent. If you choose to leave, you will be safely returned to the energon mine and will not be contacted by us again."

Optimus felt his fear increase over Karl's response and quickly added to what he had to say. "Karl," he said almost too tenderly, "I beg you to take your time on this decision."

"Strength of my character," Karl mused. "I just wish you could get to know the other Vehicons. If you realized how strong some of them were, how hard they work, how much they care about everyone but themselves." And he uttered a brief sound that was not quite a laugh. "You'd never offer me something like that."

A sense of deja vu had come over him; in his memory banks, he was waking up in the sick bay with Knock Out beside him, monitoring his vitals and baring terrible news. The pain had still been fresh when Starscream ushered him off to the energon mines, half-heartedly assuring him that there was still hope, and that he could still provide an important service for the entire Decepticon army...a sentiment that had carried him through his work and stayed with him now.

"It's not that I don't appreciate the offer. Mech to mech, I don't have anything personal against you, not anymore. But these guys are everyone I've ever known. I couldn't switch sides and learn to build my life around offlining them."

Optimus' optics had fallen as Karl spoke, hope falling with them. But when Karl concluded, Optimus' brow plating drew together. But he resisted defending the Autobots. Even if he had not built his life around offlining the Vehicons, it would seem that way to one. "Perhaps the gap is too large for us to ever understand one another. But you must know that I am not looking at the accomplishments of your comrades, I am looking at you. That you can recognize them for what they have done only adds to who you are, and what I think of you. If you could see what I see, you would not belittle yourself."

Optimus felt his own mortality weighing heavily on his shoulders. He had one life to live, and the childish dream of Karl staying finally crumbled out of his future. Desperation and foolishness overcame him. He lifted Karl's servo and kissed it. And as quickly as he did so, he let him go and walked out of the medical bay.

Karl sat alone, listening to the hum of the machines, the steady beep of monitors all around. It all seemed too clean and predictable for what had just happened - too real to compare with the place where Optimus's kiss lay on his servo. Of all the things he'd been suspecting, only one had proved true, and it was the one that had terrified him the most.

He knew that he had to leave now, or else he never would.

For what seemed the thousandth time, the Vehicon listened to the sounds of pedes growing fainter.

He wanted so desperately to follow them; his spark felt as though it already had.

Ratchet stepped into the lab, his features slightly less severe after what he'd heard. "Come on, it's time for you to go home." He turned back and stepped over to the controls, and finally opened it. "I'm not sending you to the mine," he called across the room, "there's too much of a risk someone will run back through, and as you can see I have no backup. Ground-level below the Nemesis will have to do. From what I see they aren't moving. There's no chance that Soundwave will miss you." The ground bridge came to life and he gestured to it. "Whenever you're ready."

When he'd first been captured, Karl would have given anything to see that swirling vortex of light that led to home. It would have looked like an old friend standing in the sun, holding out a servo to lift him from where he lay. He clung to the hope that maybe, once he stepped through and made his way to his quarters, it would feel that way again.

"Yeah, I'm ready." He stood gingerly, but the post-stasis weakness was already leaving him. He looked at Ratchet, suddenly wishing he had a mouth to smile; just half a smile to leave on. "Sorry we started out the way we did...you really gave me my life back."

Ratchet looked disgruntled from the complement. "Don't thank me yet, you haven't tested it. And take care of yourself… for Optimus' sake."

Hearing the name of the Autobot leader brought a painful twist to Karl's spark, reducing his reply to a shallow nod. As he stepped on through the ground bridge, he chanced one last look at the Autobot base; its fluorescent lighting and the dust motes on the air, the way all the edges seemed soft.

Then he turned and continued walking, as fast as he could, until the bridge fell away and the landscape began again. Even though the Nemesis was hovering directly overhead, for that first, brief moment, it was not the sight that greeted Karl by filling the entirety of his vision.

There was only desert.

To be continued.


	6. Chapter 6

Just want to say how much I enjoyed writing this with my partner.

6

In the cool darkness of the Nemesis, Megatron stood at the control room. Soundwave had silently posted a status report on the main screen for them.

[Update: Vehicon KA-R1-302 disappears after Autobot attack in mine 11A: Status: Vehicon recovered and onboard]

"Marvelous," Megatron said sarcastically. "Why am I being notified about the recovery of a Vehicon?"

[Vehicon: returned via Autobot ground bridge.]

Megatron's optics widened. "What do you mean, 'returned'?" Before Soundwave could post a reply, he whirled around toward Starscream, who had been directing orders at an eradicon across the room. "Starscream!" He shouted. "Do you know about this report?"

Starscream bolted upwards, warning signals flying as fast as the warlord's intonation of his name. He knew he had to give an answer quick and keep the blame firmly off his shoulder plates. "No, my lord! The Autobot attack on site 819-U was filed, yes, but all reports showed a single Vehicon termination!"

Soundwave silently brought up a visual feed of the Vehicon's signal, located quite clearly in the upper holding area.

"I know what it says," Starscream snapped. "The other drones must have been mistaken. I assure you, they all reported the same thing!"

Megatron approached him. "I am not concerned that the drone was reported offline. I want to know if you were aware that the Autobots dropped one of our soldiers off at our front step, and why!" Megatron turned to Soundwave. "Have Knockout meet us at the appointed holding area. I want that drone scanned for bugs and explosives, even techno-organic bio weapons. And Starscream, since you seem to be so misinformed, you will accompany me there immediately."

Karl sat in the holding area, servos folded, calmly awaiting the arrival of an officer...the guards who'd brought him in had assured him it wouldn't be long. Optimus's previous warnings crept into his memory banks, but he refused to believe it. He was still useful to the Decepticons and even moreso now, with his new repairs.

Finally, the door slid open. He dropped to an immediate bow before the Decepticon leader.

"Lord Megatron...Commander Starscream..."

Megatron approached the soldier. "Explain to me in one sentence, how you came to stand here alive."

One glance at his expression and Karl knew that his life hinged on the correct answer. "Sir, I swear I never told them a thing."

Megatron swiftly backhanded him, knocking the soldier off his feet. He didn't even have to make an effort. He reached down, grabbing his neck. "I am not going to sift through your petty begging to survive to find my answers! Right now the fact that you stand here, alive, unharmed, tells me that you are lying." He tightened his grip around the soldier's throat. "Even the sheen of your armor tells me you are keeping things from me, your leader, Lord of the Decepticon army. Now tell me in one, true sentence, why you are alive."

Suddenly, truth was synonymous with survival. It became a number, a formula, an amount to push past his vocodoer before Megatron could crush his throat. "I don't know! Polished me...fixed my t-cog! Asked me to join them and when I wouldn't, they let me go!" As that inescapable grip impeded the flow to his neural net, as he clawed at Megatron's wrist, images of the Autobot base flashed randomly before his visuals.

Megatron released the Vehicon and stood up straight, pondering his response. "Ah," he said thoughtfully, "I see what Prime is doing. Starscream, do you see? His answer is surely too bizarre to be a lie, so tell me, can you imagine a motivation for Prime to send back a sparkling, refurbished grunt soldier?"

Starscream, who had been observing with a quiet calculation reserved only for Megatron's interrogations, tapped his long digits against his faceplate in a show of thoughtfulness. "Hmm. Either our soldier has indeed defected, only to foolishly return and play the spy, or he's hiding something more..._inward_. Drone, you say the Autobots repaired your t-cog?"

"Yes," Karl gasped, rubbing the clinched tubes of his neck.

"And were they kind enough to place you under stasis, first?"

"They...they did."

"Well, there you have it," Starscream finished smoothly.

He turned as the door opened and the Decepticon medic stepped on through, taking in the hunched Vehicon at a glance. "You summoned me, Lord Megatron?"

Megatron put up a servo to keep the medic from speaking further. "Starscream," he said in an unimpressed tone, "Why would the Autobots polish and wax a drone if they wanted him to be a spy, if they wanted him to return to the Nemesis and _blend in_ among the others, in order to extract information from us? Have you seen our spy? He is certainly no flashy neon sign as our medic is. And really, how much information could a drone acquire with Soundwave protecting our data?"

Satisfied with his degradation of Starscream, he turned back to the drone and spoke aloud to both Second in Command and Medic. "This Vehicon was sent back to destroy us from the inside. Put him back in with the troops and how long will it take for them to talk of the mercy and righteousness of the Autobot Leader? How many useless, crippled soldiers sent to the mines will start to wonder if they could receive the same medical treatment from the Autobots which they are not receiving here? One drone may not have enough information to destroy us, but many drones could. Compiled they could offer up the Nemesis' hours of operation, the locations of our energon mines, the codes to storage rooms and maps of the ship's layout."

Megatron grabbed the Vehicon by the back of the neck and held him out to show to the others. "This drone was sent to make a fool of me! He makes me look like an uncaring leader. He makes the Decepticons look poor, unable to provide enough water for washes, enough wax to make us respectable, he makes us look WEAK!"

Megatron shoved the drone at Knockout. "Scan him for bugs and anything else Prime might have implanted in him during surgery. Starscream, track down that eradicon who was present in the control room when we announced the return of his comrade. I want him offlined before his shift is over and he can break the news to the rest of them. I want you to find out every last bit of information this Autobot-refurbished Vehicon might have attained in their custody and anything he might have spilled. When you're done, kill him."

Karl was numb. Frozen to the core of his frame. Pain, fear, the need to survive...it all fell away in the wake of this proclamation. All he'd ever had to give had been given freely to the Decepticons, the only thing to lean against when his body had failed him time and time again. His home and family; his world.

And now it had come to this.

A more eloquent Vehicon may have been able to plead their case; recite back their unwavering belief in the Decepticon cause and what it meant for the future. But KA-R1-302 had never been a mech of many words. And as he lowered his helm, voice imploring even as he threw caution to the wind, it wasn't even the promise of a reprieve he was seeking...it was the reassurance that it had it meant something in the end.

"Please, Lord Megatron...I can still serve you..."

Megatron turned back to him with an unfeeling expression. "Don't you understand, soldier? Your further existence is detrimental to the Decepticon cause. You were once a small cog in the machine, but now you are a wrench in it, and you must go. Serve me by answering Starscream, and you will be given a swift death."

Without another word he turned and left.

Back in the control room, the lone Eradicon who had been present during the news of Karl's return, was busy sending comms to his friends about the return of the Autobot captive. The comm turned from a message to a rumor as it was forwarded through the army. By the time it reached 404's comm system, to no one's knowledge, this lone Eradicon in the control room had already been executed by Commander Starscream. But it was too late, the news was out.

404, however unrelated to the Autobot captive he was, was indeed related to the actual Autobots. Specifically, the young scout named Bumblebee.

Nearly a full day later, Bumblebee drove home with his mind swarming over what 404 had said during their meet in the canyon. If Karl was back, why hadn't anyone seen him yet? Why had the original Eradicon gone missing too? Bumblebee could only think of the worst. He couldn't stop thinking about Optimus' theories about Karl being questioned endlessly by Megatron, and shot when his usefulness was over. He could see Megatron being angry with a soldier for even letting himself get caught, for risking Decepticon intelligence rather than shooting himself before capture. There were just so many reasons to worry.

When he'd driven in close distance to the base, he set his scrambler to disguise the identity of his signal, and sent out an anonymous message. Without any passwords or locks, the base would pick it up in an instant.

[[How's the patrol going? Catch wind of any Autobot scum? Well I heard a rumor the captive is back, but no one's seen him. Lord Megatron probably offed the mech, but it's his own fault for getting caught. Anyway, I'll see you when your shift ends.]]

The message travel outwards over the Nevada desert, making its way through the airwaves, unattached and unprotected; for all that was lacking in the Autobots' borrowed and salvaged technology, their receivers picked it up with no trouble at all. Long before Bumblebee ever reached home, the message transmitted down the old silo to rest within its network.

Alone in the central hub of the base, Ratchet listened to the intercepted broadcast. Then, offlining his optics, he listened to it again.

He opened his comm link.

_'Optimus. I think you need to hear this...'_

Optimus stood on the edge of the cliff overtop of their base. These days it was rare for him to get a moment to himself, especially when there was still light enough to stand up there and think. He received the comm and took another moment to watch the sky change from pink to orange. He headed through the upstairs post and passed the door to his personal quarters before heading down the elevator.

He arrived in the central room and approached Ratchet. "What do I need to hear?"

"The captive we released back to Decepticon custody. I've just intercepted a Vehicon transmission regarding his whereabouts." Ratchet knew there was no use in being soft-handed with the delivery, no matter how much he would have liked to. "He hasn't been seen by the others. There's...a rumor he's been offlined."

He indicated the message, recorded and still accessible on the computer screen.

Optimus stiffened as he read the message, fear flooding over him like a cold wash. Without a moment's hesitation he made his order. "Open the ground bridge. If there's any chance that the rumor has not yet come to be, then I must make haste."

There was only so much that Ratchet could take, and the life of his oldest friend was where he drew the line. "Optimus, please!" He held up his servos placatingly, but his voice held an edge of firmness none of the other Autobots would have dreamed of putting on. "If he's been offlined, then there's nothing we can do for him. If he's still functioning, then rushing in blindly won't save him!"

"This is my doing. If I had not taken him to begin with, he would still be mining energon now. He would… he would be fine if not for me. If there is any chance he is alive, I must find him and bring him to safety. And if not, I will bring him home regardless. And I cannot accept help from anyone; I will not put any more of my teammates in harm's way."

Optimus felt desperate. His optics slid to the hall entrance to make sure no one was coming, and he spoke softly. "I have always done what I could for the Autobot cause, but I must do something for myself. Please, Ratchet, open the bridge."

"This is about something greater than yourself! You of all mechs should know that! If we lose you, we lose all hope of ever winning this war. Nothing is worth that, not even the life of a Vehicon." He flinched, as though the taste of things unspoken lay bitter on his glossa. Faster than he'd ever imagined, his worst fears were stepping out of the realms of prediction and into the blinding light. "Optimus…Karl returned to the Decepticons of his own free will. We made him aware of the dangers he faced, but he chose to remain with his faction. I beg you not to forget yours."

Optimus' frustration increased, but he held it back. He was well aware that his better judgment told him the worst, but his spark would never be satisfied if he didn't know for sure. If he couldn't convince Ratchet on a personal level, he would have to reach him on a practical one. "There is no need to remind me of my faction. Not only do I belong to it, but I created it. There is no one more likely than myself to survive this journey. And do not forget that both Arcee and Bumblebee survived an expedition to the Nemesis. I promise you, if I am in a dire situation, I will comm you right away to open the ground bridge. I make this promise because I am going whether you approve of it or not. I will not be convinced otherwise. So I will say it once more, please open the ground bridge."

There was no mistaking the quiet, impenetrable firmness that lay behind those words...a foundational anchor beneath the Autobot movement, it was as recognizable as the lights of Iacon. Megatron certainly knew it well. Alpha Trion had known it well. And Ratchet knew it well. It said that Optimus had made up his mind, and neither persuasion nor force could dissuade him from his chosen path.

The medic stepped over to the control panel. Moments later, a ground bridge opened wide.

"The very moment you're in trouble."

Optimus nodded and walked into the light. He stepped out into a dark, empty hallway. The ground bridge closed and he heard the sound of conversation growing closer. He stepped back, pressing himself against the wall as a pair of footsteps came down the hall.

"So just let me know when you finish, okay? I need to see how it looks."

"Sure thing," the other responded.

One set of began to walk away, and the other turned the corner in view of Optimus. Before he could shout, Optimus had the drone around the neck, canon pointed at his helm. "I am looking for someone, and you will cooperate in leading them to me."

The winged Eradicon struggled against him. "I won't tell you anything," he croaked, his vocals distorted from being compacted against Optimus' arm.

"Listen up," Optimus growled, growing uncharacteristically angry. "I will do this with or without your help. With your help I may have a chance at stealth, thus sparing the lives of an unknown number of your brethren. I will leave with what I came for, and the Decepticon Army will be no less off than before. But if you refuse to help me, I will have no choice but to navigate on my own, undoubtedly running into troops on the way. I will blast through each and every one of them until I reach my goal, and the Energon will be on your servos, soldier. So tell me now, if someone were to be interrogated, where is the most likely place they would be taken?"

Optimus loosened his hold on the drone's throat, allowing his vocals to function properly. The Eradicon was quiet for a moment before finally choosing to speak. "There's an interrogation room. It's near the bow of the ship."

"Take me there."

Elsewhere on the ship, a broken, cuffed frame crashed to the interrogation room floor.

Starscream flicked Energon from the tips of his claws. The predatory smirk he'd worn when they first began was gone, long since replace by an exhausted, worn out snarl. "Do think this is about time, drone? I can make you suffer for a lunar cycle, if that's what you're looking for!"

Karl's audios barely registered it. He was sinking down into his memory banks, surrounding himself with moments that were furthest from pain. The warm, cramped barracks with the clamor of fellow Vehicons all around…a black highway baked by the sun, the thrum of his healthy t-cog as he drove along...a thick vein of Energon in the earth raising a chorus of triumphant laughter…and, as his visor dimmed, a place where large, kind servos cleansed him with utmost gentleness. As static began to fill his processor, he could almost hear the sound of hot water raining down.

Then the talons descended on his already gaping thigh wound, broadening it until the sound of his own shrieks brought back him to mental clarity.

"Tell me what you saw!"

There was so much he had failed, his promise to Ratchet being one of them. So much that he would never be able to repay, not even with assurances that they'd been right all along.

But this much he could do for them.

"Not…telling you a thing."

Optimus walked quietly through the Nemesis, canon aimed at the Eradicon ahead of him. There came a set of voices growing closer and the Eradicon whispered back to him. "This way," he said icily, turning and leading Optimus down a different narrow hallway, a side route most definitely meant for maintenance. They reached a room with poor lighting and climbed a long ladder to an upper level of the ship. Optimus remained a close distance with the Eradicon, managing to keep his weapon extended as he climbed.

They stepped through a maintenance room identical to the one below, and out into a hallway.

"Your Autobot slagger is in there," the drone said, pointing to a door that was a few feet ahead. Optimus approached the door, pressing his audio to the side. He paid little attention when the Eradicon began to run away, his focus on the sound of Starscream's vocals spitting out angry words. Hope filled him, because Starscream would have no one to snap at if the worst had happen.

"This is your final warning," he heard Starscream say, "or do you enjoy having my claw sunken into you?"

Without another second's thought, Optimus aimed at the door's control panel and blasted it. The door opened and he stepped inside and began shooting.

Success had been so close at hand, Starscream had thought. With the Vehicon's gleaming Energon cable laid out for the cutting, information was sure to follow. After all, even the most unbreakable mining drone was still just a mining drone…not a scout, not a soldier.

A horrified yelp was all he had time to emit, then the Autobot's volley of fire was raining down upon him. For neither the first not last time, the seeker's quickness saved his life as he dodged behind his array of interrogation implements, laser blasts singeing the tip of one wing and gouging the portable table.

Drained of fortitude as he was, Starscream took the only option he saw available to him and bolted for the door. He was gone as quickly as Optimus had come.

Karl pushed himself up from the pool of Energon he lie in, all the while trying to clear his visual feed as the cannon fire quieted. The pain didn't diminish just because the impossible had occurred, but it made no difference. As he lifted his leaden helm, he was smiling within…visor brightening as though the Allspark were opening up before him, and nothing but peace lay ahead.

Optimus closed his weapon. His relief was interminable when he saw Karl alive, but the state of him cuffed on the table, covered in Energon, made Optimus want to tear the claws from Starscream's servos. His optics narrowed, unable to disguise the rage in his expression as he approached. He onlined his comm link as he walked. 'Ratchet, activate the ground bridge.'

The bridge appeared in seconds, just as Optimus reached the table. He didn't look away from Karl for an instant, afraid he might disappear again. And he stayed quiet, too angry to speak as he lifted the Vehicon into his arms and headed for the ground bridge.

Karl offlined his visor, listening to the sounds of the ground bridge roaring around them and the crackle of Optimus's spark beneath it all. The myriad things he'd longed to say were failing him, and all he could do was curl his digits softly over the Autobot's chestplate.

To be continued.


	7. Chapter 7

CHAPTER 7

As they emerged, the shine of dripping Energon flashed down to the concrete floor. Ratchet was already preparing the med berth.

"Bring him here! I've got a transfusion ready."

"No, don't waste it…didn't get the main cable in my leg," muttered Karl without activating his visor. "He's been at me with the proud. And the clamps…the pliers…something with my neural net…"

Optimus' digits tensed as he heard the details of Karl's hours in his absence. He reached the table and stopped, staring at it. He looked at Ratchet, who watched him with an odd expression as he waited for him to lay Karl out on the table.

"I…" he looked at the table and felt Karl curling against him, and he couldn't let him go. He let him go once and he couldn't do it again, not even into the safe hands of a friend. Not for a second. So he turned around and sat on the table with Karl still in his arms. "You'll have to work on him like this," he said stiffly, shifting his arm so that Ratchet had access to the wound on Karl's thigh.

If there was a longer, more disbelieving stare in existence, it would have found a challenger in the look Ratchet gave Optimus just then.

"Fine."

Despite all protests, he started a thin line of Energon flowing into Karl's arm. Then, working around his friend's arm, Ratchet gingerly separated the Vehicon's thighs and settled between them. Beneath the welding rod's hiss, the numerous deep serrations began to close over. He avoided saying even a quarter of what was on his mind, sensing it would have been the worst thing to confront Optimus with now.

"You don't need to hold him so tightly," he finally chanced. "Unless he's planning on running."

"Never again," said Karl, too warm and safe and free of pain to feel anything else.

Optimus felt affectionate warmth grow inside of him, and he didn't loosen his grip on Karl despite Ratchet's comment. He closed his optics during the repairs, just enjoying being able to hold him there. His thumb circled against the Vehicon's shoulder, his chin resting lightly on his helm.

"Ratchet, would you please use the laser saw to remove the cuffs?" Optimus asked when the repairs were completed and the larger amounts of energon were wiped from Karl's frame.

Activated, the saw was more powerful than the sum of its small size; it gave off a high, intimidating whine and a potent chemical scent. Karl held out his bound servos, unflinching as the circular laser cut straight down the center. Seconds later, the cuffs fell away like two broken halves of a nut.

"Thanks," he offered, rubbing his numbed wrists.

Ratchet nodded, but his attention was firmly on Optimus. Rather than presuming, he waited for the order to prepare the Vehicon's cell once more.

Unnoticing, Optimus stood and headed out of the medical bay. "Thank you," he said to Ratchet before leaving. He carried Karl to the elevator to his personal quarters, trying to ignore the incredulous expression on his friend's face as the doors closed.

When they reached the top, Optimus walked a few feet down the hall. Straight out would lead to the top of the mountain, and the door to the right would lead to his quarters. He brought Karl inside, and was glad that it was warmer in there than it had been downstairs. They crossed his main living area, a wide open room with a computer center connected to the one downstairs, a wall of tiny drawings, and a large set of windows looking out over the desert.

Optimus brought Karl into his berthroom and laid him down on his oversized berth, letting go of him for the first time in over an hour.

Karl wearily took in the room around him, having nothing to compare it to besides drone barracks. In a place so wide, warm, and filled with sunlight, it was easy to forget the darkened halls of the Nemesis and all the pain that had befallen him there.

His visor offlined, then suddenly lit up in a nodding blink. The berth was the softest, deepest he'd ever laid his back struts upon, and it was all he could do not to fall immediately into recharge. Still, he couldn't power off without speaking privately to Optimus.

"I don't know how to thank you for this...I'll fight for you, go wherever you want me to..."

"Then don't go anywhere," Optimus replied, crawling in beside him. He put his arm around the smaller mech, still feeling the need to be close after all that had happened. He listened to him mumble a few moments longer before the drone's dark optical visor finally blinked off. Optimus shifted closer and planted a kiss above the recharging Vehicon's visor.

He stayed a while longer, pondering over all that had happened. But there was a point where he didn't want to think further, which related closely to the future. Resting here beside Karl was more than he would have expected not long ago, or even imagined a while before that.

Slowly he slipped out of the berth, pressing a button on his way out that closed the blinds and darkened the berthroom. Karl had undoubtedly gone without energon on the Nemesis, and he wanted to make sure he onlined from recharge to a cube on the berth-side table.

When he reached the central room he was surprised to find the whole team standing around.

"Just to clarify," Ratchet quickly began, "this isn't a meeting I called or a reflection of my personal opinion. These three arrived several kliks ago and I filled them in as best I could."

Arcee took over."We'd still appreciate hearing it from you. Optimus, is it true that you snuck aboard the Nemesis to rescue that Vehicon prisoner? And that he's here now?" The blue femme shook her helm, slightly lost for words. "No one here is ever going to tell you what you can and can't do...but some things..."

Bulkhead didn't chime in, but he kept shooting glances towards the elevator door. He seemed to be expecting the rogue Vehicon to step out, guns blazing, and make a mad dash for the exit.

Optimus looked around at his friends and sighed. "This is… as hard to believe for me as it is for you. I…" Optimus hesitated. What could he say? What did he want to say? He didn't want the Autobots to see Karl simply as an object of his affection. He wanted them to see him as a comrade. "I first brought up the possibility of inviting Karl to stay with us, and he declined. He chose to stay loyal to his own, and in return Megatron rewarded his loyalty with cruelty. I do not regret my decision to board the Nemesis and track him down, because he is with us now, and he plans to stay. He is no longer our prisoner. I know this may be difficult for some of you to accept, but his transition will run more smoothly if you are all cooperative and supportive. Karl has much to learn, but I believe he will become a meaningful member of our team."

The remaining Autobots were silent, each pondering the matter and trying to make sense of it all. Less than a week ago, the possibility of taking a Vehicon hostage was impractical and remote...now, it was a question of accepting one into their midst. None of them could have prepared for it.

"I still think we should keep an optic on him," Bulkhead finally put in. "He could be faking it."

"He wasn't faking it." Adverse to the whole idea as he was, Ratchet knew that they had more staggering concerns where the Vehicon was concerned. "His injuries were severe, and completely consistent with Decepticon interrogation methods."

Arcee sighed, resigned. "Well...it's not like we're handing him the keys to the base."

Optimus' helm tilted down very slightly at mention of the torture. It made him want to hurry back upstairs. But he focused on Arcee's last statement. "I am not asking you to trust him right away; trust can only be formed with time. Feel free to withhold information from him if it puts you at ease for the meantime. I only ask that you try to treat him as cordially as you can."

Optimus began walking to the hall when Bumblebee piped up. 'So should I set up a room for him? He can't live in the storage room forever."

For a moment Optimus looked bewildered, not having even thought about it. Despite his own preference, it would be normal for Karl to have his own space to retreat to if he ever felt like being alone. So he nodded awkwardly.

Bulkhead gave a massive shrug, half tossing up his servos. "Eh! Long as he's not bunking with me."

Arcee, for her part, was already attempting to view this strategically. If she was going to accept a Decepticon in their midst, she was going to approach it from the most practical angle she could. "Maybe the one at the top of the hall, between Bumblebee's room and mine. Not enough to make him feel closed in, but close enough to know if something does happen?"

"That sounds fine," Optimus lied. It was far from his quarters, but he supposed that was the point after all. He looked around at them and then turned and walked down the hall to the rations room. He took a pair of cubes so he could refuel with Karl, and returned to the central room and to the elevator. He wondered for a moment whether they had been talking about it from the sudden silence, but decided against inquiring.

By the time Optimus returned to the room, Karl was already sitting upright in berth. Replete in the memory of warm arms around him and a thundering spark near him, waking up alone had come with an immense emptiness...one that had never been there before. His internal clock showed only a short time since his last recharge, so he knew Optimus couldn't have been gone long.

"Nnn...sorry for passing out like that..."

"Not at all," Optimus said as he approached. He set one of the cubes in Karl's servos and sat just below his pedes. "How are you feeling? Have your sensory wires calmed at all?" He looked at the cube he was holding and decided to wait. If Karl finished the first one he would make him drink another.

"Yeah, they feel fine...oh, wow. Thanks for this." A sharp, sudden ache in his fuel tank and a flash of red light in his HUD reminded Karl of his hunger. It had been well over a day since his last refueling, and the presence of fresh energon had him ravenous. Only after three long sips from the cube could he turn his attention back to conversation, and giving Optimus his answer. "Actually? I feel pretty good."

Optimus blinked, surprised. "That's… that's good to hear." He smiled. "Do you feel up to some fresh air and a little sun? I can take you outside if you would like. You wouldn't have to walk far…" He hesitated, almost too embarrassed to plainly offer to carry him. "Or at all."

The truth was, sunlight sounded wonderful. Sunlight sounded like the opposite of the holding cell, and all the shadows Starscream had cast when he moved. "You're doing too much for me, y'know..."

Optimus looked away, slightly embarrassed. He had to resist telling Karl that he deserved every bit of it and that it was his pleasure to provide. So he stood without responding. "How is your leg? I don't know exactly what Ratchet repaired, and I wouldn't want you walking sooner than you should."

"I'm not planning on overdoing it. But at the same time..." He hesitated, knowing what he was about to say and how it would sound to Optimus. Stubborn and illogical. He scratched at the side of his leg, not wanting to come right out and awkwardly ask permission to stand, and unsure how freely he was allowed to speak. "I don't want Starscream to be the thing keeping me down. Is it...alright if I try?"

"There's no need to ask," Optimus said. He stood close by, however, to make sure he could grab Karl if he fell.

Something in the way the Autobot said those words warmed Karl's spark all the way through; made him feel as though he could power through any pain. Putting the empty cube aside, he slid haltingly from the berth, holding onto the side to steady himself. The pain in his thigh hadn't abated completely, but he was able to shakily hold his own, and for that he was deeply pleased with himself. He looked up at Optimus, offering a few sure nods of the helm. "Alright. I'm good."

"Right this way then," Optimus said, and he slowly lead him through his living quarters, down the hall and out onto the cliff. The sun was low in the sky, and shadows from surrounding rocks and mountains made sharp lines in the ground around them.

As the sun's heat touched his visor and the breeze brought the scent of baking Earth up to meet them, Karl forgot all about discomfort...forgot that he had ever been abandoned or alone, that his world had ever consisted of what lay beneath the ground. It was the most beautiful thing he'd seen in years, and it had always been right there waiting. "By the Allspark..."

Optimus kept his gaze to the side, watching the Vehicon look out. The desert was a sight he had seen many times before, and it was more enjoyable to be able to share it with Karl. He realized then that he was still holding the second energon cube, and set it on the ground beside them. "Come sit," he said, helping Karl down and making sure he didn't move too close to the edge.

Obediently, Karl sat. He couldn't seem to take his visuals off the desert before them, and with the scenery spanning out towards the horizon, he didn't have to. Eventually, he gave a soft laugh. "Sorry. They don't let us up to the surface very often. Never this high."

Optimus leaned in toward Karl and pointed to a long, dark line in the distance, curving with the canyons in the landscape. "That road there is my escape," he said. It was strange how easily he could suddenly share with a Vehicon what he had withheld from everyone else. "There are times when I find the war consuming my every thought. And when I find myself in that dark place, and when time permits, I drive out there and find blessed relief from my thoughts. This world is so beautiful that sometimes driving down that road allows me to forget who I am and all of my responsibilities." Optimus laughed at himself, embarrassed. "What I meant to say is that it's a good road, and I would like to take you driving some time… if you'd like."

Whenever Optimus spoke to Karl like this, it was difficult to believe the other mech was a leader of such great magnitude. In the Vehicon's experience, leadership and hardness went hand-in-hand. You couldn't take time for beauty and relief, forget your responsibilities, sit down with your subordinates and waste precious minutes. Under no circumstances did you charge into enemy territory to save prisoners.

There was so much about Optimus that he couldn't begin to fathom, and it made him want to remain at the Autobot's side, devoting a lifetime to figuring it out. "That's...just really amazing. To me, at least."

"What is?" Optimus asked.

Karl searched for a succinct reply, scratching at the back of his knee as he did. "For someone who's in charge of an entire faction, you really are a normal guy." He gave a long pause. "...That didn't come out right."

"It's alright," Optimus said as he looked out. "I believe deep down that was a complement." He glanced back at Karl, not sure if his first attempt at humor in the last thousand years had succeeded.

Another long pause. Far, far below, a nightjar's cry echoed off the rocks, clipped and rasping and almost like a sob. Karl started to chuckle, his visor brightening in the fading light. "Yeah. It was definitely a compliment."

"If my processor serves me well, this is the first time anyone has called me 'normal'." He looked at Karl. "But I do like that. I crave normalcy."

He watched Karl, wishing he could read him. No doubt the drones could read each other by body language of some kind, but he was too used to expressions. Karl was somewhat of a mystery. His stance seemed casual enough, comfortable, but he would have to know him better before he could really start to understand. He looked over Karl's face plating and the red-rimmed oral intake, and wondered how it would feel to kiss him. There was no telling if Karl would even like being kissed. He opened his mouth to speak and quickly closed it.

Even through the lengthening shadows, Karl noticed that Optimus was watching him closely. He thought that he may have been more uncomfortable if the older mech's expression weren't so gentle, and his cyan optics so kind. When his mouth opened and closed, he turned to face him more directly. "Hmm?"

Optimus blinked and looked away. "Ah…" he swore internally over the corner he'd pushed himself into. He couldn't catch Karl up in his own emotions, not so soon after everything he'd been through, Karl's whole life being uprooted, and the meaning of it scattered to the wind. But he could still feel Karl's digits touching his chest as he carried him back through the ground bridge.

He mustered the courage to look at Karl again, and all he could see was purple curves and smooth edges, pink reflecting off the sky and sliding over his silver plating, and that orange optical visor glowing in the growing darkness. The logic and patience that had gotten him so far in the war dissolved. He leaned forward, put a servo against the side of Karl's face and kissed him. He pulled back only slightly, forehelm still pressed against Karl's. "I'm drowning in you."

Karl's visual feed blinked. His spark raced. Everything he'd lost was rapidly dimming, blurring, until all he could piece together was Optimus.

The face he'd seen as stasis was overtaking him, and the servo on his as he came out again...the gentle voice had that offered him the world...the arms that had swooped in to save him when he thought his time had run out, and then held him close enough to remind him that things like home and security still existed.

With a small, choked, gasp of intakes, Karl leaned in again, rubbing the smooth side of his helm to Optimus's; the only kiss he could give in return.

Optimus took the invitation and kissed him again. He'd wanted to ask something, say something, but his language was gone. He shifted closer, his other servo moving over the Vehicon's frame almost desperately, starting at his shoulder and falling down to his waist, and settling on the side of his hip. As quickly as he did it he pulled his servo back up. "Sorry," he whispered, parting from Karl just slightly.

Karl felt his sensors lighting up, one after another, as heat pooled beneath his plating. It brought back the memory of his cell beneath the base, when Optimus had applied the coolant to his aching side, and his touch had lingered. Back then, the worst possible thing for either of them was for that servo to remain against his side, and Karl had wanted nothing more.

He lay his servos against Optimus's chestplate, the broadest thing he could find. "Please...please leave it there..."

Optimus waited a moment before laying his hand against Karl's hip once more. His thumb trailed under the lower seam, brushing over wires. He kissed Karl's jaw and then moved down to his neck, opening his mouth a little more and finally running his glossa over the cabling.

He encouraged Karl to lay back and continued his ministrations, touching him reverently. His hand slipped down that smooth leg plating, digits pressing firmly around him, sliding back and forth until his servo turned to his inner thigh.

If Karl had possessed slightly more presence of mind, he would have been floored by his own responsiveness - but every touch felt perfectly right, as if those powerful servos had been meant to rest on his plating. Soon he was dragging his digits down the back of Optimus's neck, tipping his own helm to expose the sensitive, dark cables of his throat...parting his legs, quivering and eager.

The temperature in Optimus' engine had been slowly rising with each second that the smaller mech lay on his back beneath him, and when Karl's legs opened for him a blast of heat ran off his engine and his fans kicked in. He groaned softly against the Vehicon's neck, wanting so desperately to do more, to please Karl in whatever way he could. He wanted to hear his vocals whimpering in his audio. The tips of his digits drifted up Karl's thigh and met with the seam of his interface panel. He could feel the rising temperature beneath his palm and he began running his digits against the heated purple plating.

"Nnn..." Instinctively, Karl's hips tipped up into the heated caress. His processor was already jumping ahead to what Optimus's digits would feel like as they slid over his interface array, brushed the metal rim of his valve, how thick and full they would be as they slid into him, opening him up.

That line of thought proved to be the tipping point as his panel snapped loudly open. Already half-pressurized and shining with lubricant, his interface array was already blurred with heatwaves.

Optimus leaned back, giving in to his desire to see. "Look at you," he breathed, optics trailing over the Vehicon's luscious, exposed frame, and the dripping valve beneath his servo. It took everything in his power to keep his own panel from sliding open. He brushed a digit over the wet valve entrance, brow plating pulling together at the feeling of it. He pushed in slowly, mouth falling open as he felt Karl's tightness. He pulled out and pushed in again.

Karl's intakes heaved. His overheated metal groaned. If he'd had a properly expressive face, it would have been taut with pleasure. Servos clenching on Optimus's shoulders, he spread his legs wider as a fresh wash of lubricant welled out to meet the penetrating digits. "Oh frag...ohfrag_ohfrag..._"

Optimus heard a ping in his audio as someone commed him, and quickly rejected the incoming message as he focused on Karl. He pushed his digits in again, spreading them out slightly, and rubbing the inner walls at different angles. The comm pinged again and he ignored it, engrossed in the lubricant dripping from the valve down his servo. At the third ping he stopped, sighing.

"Ahh…" He looked at Karl guiltily, wishing there was some way to freeze time rather than stop what he was doing right now. "I'm being commed, and I think it's an emergency."

It took Karl several seconds to remember what words like _comm_ and _emergency_ meant. His inner walls gave an occasional, expectant shiver around Optimus's digits, and he didn't possess quite enough resolve to pull his hips free from them. But he nodded, speaking over the combined roar of both their fans.

"Yeah...yeah. We'd better stop."

Optimus, extremely frustrated with the situation, pressed a kiss to Karl's inner knee before gently pulling out. "I'll finish what I started," he promised before getting to his feet, and giving Karl a hand too.

He straightened up and accepted the comms, which turned out to be from Ratchet.

[Decepticon signal detected in close proximity to the base]

[Optimus, get out of berth and get down here]

[OPTIMUS]

Optimus' sight turned quickly to the dark skies, trying to spot any airplane or flyer. He put an arm around Karl and hurried him to the door. "Karl, we must conceal ourselves immediately."

To Be Continued


	8. End

This is the final chapter! Please enjoy!

CHAPTER 8

Karl ran alongside him, shooting fast glances towards the skies and viciously aware of his own hand in this - once again, he'd placed Optimus in danger. And then he remembered something, as if out of the blue. Hastily, he checked his internal communications for incoming messages and found nothing.

"I don't think they're launching an attack," he said, once they were under cover. "When they launch an attack, all the miners get a notification, too. In case we need to stand by for further orders or reroute energon supplies. "

They reached the elevator lift and began descending. Optimus looked at Karl. The possibility of an attack being launched was not overwhelming in his processor, since there had yet to be any reason to believe they knew about the base's location. But that Karl was sharing this intel was of more interest to him. "That is good to know. I wonder how long it will take for them to think about disconnecting you. The Officers have always seemed rather self-absorbed to me, and I believe them capable of overlooking it. Will you be able to tell when it happens?"

"Yeah. My primary line to the ship has been cut since I onlined, so I know they got that one right away. My connection to the other Vehicons is more branching, and it will take a little longer, but it should go off anytime now."

Before the elevator doors opened, Karl's fans decided that his internals were sufficiently cooled and quieted, to his immense relief. Although he remembered snapping his panel shut the moment Optimus had pulled him inside, he rechecked it now. Purely for safety's sake.

Optimus saw the gesture out of the corner of his optic and smiled. He affectionately brushed his servo over Karl's lower back just before the doors of the elevator opened.

They stepped out to see the Autobots crowded around Ratchet at the controls.

'Hey,' Bumblebee chirped, coming over to them. 'Come look at this. There's two of them now.' They approached the screen, which displayed a scene of the ground layout, showing the location of the Autobot base and the sight of Decepticon signals being detected a mere ten miles away.

"I have no reason to believe they've detected us," Ratchet said. "They've been circling this one spot for a while and branching out in a spiral as if they're looking for more, and they neither avoid our base or choose to fly over it. There's no pattern in terms of us, it all seems to be about this location. It also happens to be the sight of one of our recent battles, the one where we overturned that huge boulder and caused a rock slide."

Karl was hesitant to look at the layout screen. It seemed like a realm of information meant solely for Autobots, and he was committing some breach of etiquette - or worse, a kind of betrayal - by setting his visuals on it. But the movement of the Decepticon signals was familiar to him; and although he'd never been assigned to scouting duty, he thought he recognized the protocol being employed.

"It almost sounds like they've found a fresh Energon source."

Optimus looked at him with surprise, along with the rest of the Bots. "Can you tell us what indications lead you to believe that?"

Karl scratched the side of his helm anxiously, uncomfortable under their collective gazes. However, he had no realm qualms about sharing the information."That's what they do when they uncover a source. They have the fliers circle it for a while, put together a detailed map of the area and scan for any activity.

Keep watch for anyone who may have found it first. Then, if it looks safe, they give the okay to send in the miners, while they fan out to look for more sources nearby. Energon veins are like that. You find one close to the surface, there's usually another one close to it."

Ratchet looked back at the controls. "If that's the case, we're going to be on the tips of our pedes for a while. Optimus, what do you think we should do?"

Optimus thought for a moment. "First and foremost, we should assure that the base is not compromised. Until the energon site is abandoned, no one will enter or exit other than through the ground bridge. And so to preserve energy, no one will come or go without my prior authorization outside of emergency rescues. As far as the potential mining site, I believe we should wait until the site is established before going on-scene. We will watch them for security slip-ups and use one as a cover for discovering the area. Even a small mistake will be less suspicious than a stealth attack with no cause whatsoever."

Karl stood quietly by. Fighting the other Vehicons was not a matter of "if", but a matter of "when," and he understood that all too well. Complete and utter relief at the brief reprieve filled his spark, something he was glad the Autobots couldn't see.

"So basically we're confined to base until further notice," Arcee summarized.

"I would not say so," Optimus said after considering that. "Perhaps it would be good to have a scheduled bridge opening into town at certain times. Our circumstances are far from dire after the recent raid, and I'm sure we would all like to have the children return. I don't see the danger in opening the bridge in the west alley in town to retrieve them. But we will discuss the details tomorrow. Ratchet, one last scan for interception and checking the signal scramblers should be enough for tonight."

For all he would have preferred to keep the children away in such a crisis, Ratchet held his glossa and performed the scans. He nodded, approving of what the screen showed. "No scramblers detected, and their signals are retreating. It looks like they're calling it a day." He looked at Karl, not entirely without accusation. "Does that seem legitimate to you?"

Karl tilted his visor. "I...think so?"

Optimus watched the exchange between them, not sure if he should be glad Ratchet was putting a little faith in Karl or reprimanding him for the attitude toward their newest member. Rather than inadvertently responding negatively to a legitimate question, Optimus decided just to separate them.

"Karl," he said, lowering his tone from the usual commanding level, "Perhaps you should retire for the evening. The course of your day has been more than strenuous for anyone."

If the Autobots had anything disapproving to say about that, Karl didn't hear it. Eager to remove himself from their confidential plans, he nodded his helm and crept off to the elevator. The thought that Optimus may not have intended for him to retire to the upper quarters never crossed his processor.

He was halfway up before realizing what he'd done.

"...Scrap."

Optimus Prime was probably the only one who didn't notice anything odd about the Vehicon casually going up to the Autobot leader's quarters for recharge. He watched the controls and the leaving Decepticon scouts, while the bots around him looked at the elevator and each other.

Bumblebee leaned over to whisper a series of beeps to Arcee. 'So are you thinking what I'm thinking?'

Arcee gave him a strange look. "That depends. What are you thinking?"

Bumblebee's shoulders sagged and he gave a little miffed exhale. 'I'm wondering why I'm setting up the mech's quarters if he's getting comfortable upstairs with the big bot. So come on, you can't tell me you're not wondering what kind of thing is going on with them.' Bee paused. 'Optimus looks more, I don't know, better. Less cold. I like that much, at least.'

Arcee surveyed their leader's broad back as he stood over the control panel. "Less tense, too. It's been a long time since we've seen him so relaxed." She heard the clank of the elevator gears come to a halt, and knew that the Vehicon had arrived in Optimus's quarters. She wondered if he would lay across the berth and fall into recharge, or if he would sit up waiting for Optimus. "If this is what he needed? We can't really fault him for that."

'Yeah,' Bee agreed. 'He doesn't get a lot of breaks.'

The evening didn't progress long before Ratchet had finished scanning and securing the scrambler. The Autobots parted ways for the night and Optimus returned to his quarters with the one wish that they would not be interrupted again tonight, even just for recharge. He passed through his quarters and taking a lighter step as he entered the berthroom, not sure if Karl would be online.

Karl was lying on the berth, digits crossed over his chest in quiet contemplation. He jerked upright as Optimus entered the room, not overly skittish, but anxious nonetheless

"Hey," he greeted. "Er...this is where you meant for me to go, isn't it? Because if not, tell me and I'll head back downstairs."

"Oh," Optimus said, finally considering the fact that they were openly sharing quarters already. "I suppose we could have kept up appearances, but as far as my personal preference…" He came to sit on the edge of the berth beside Karl. "I would have you recharge here every night. Your quarters downstairs are for the occasions when you feel like having your own space, something I believe everyone needs. I would not mind if you ever choose to recharge there."

"That's nice of you." Karl thought back to recharging in his arms; to that afternoon, when the sun had been setting below the horizon. So much had happened in such a short span of time, so many things were changing. For the sake of keeping his fans off, he tried not to look at the servos resting on the edge of the berth. "Heh... I guess you already know how much I like recharging here."

Optimus had to look away to hide a smile. "It is a good berth…" He glanced back at Karl, enjoying the way he sat with his legs up, betraying a small amount of nervousness. It was a relief to know he wasn't the only one.

His optics trailed over him and the memories of touching him, of feeling his plating beneath his digits registered with the flicker of a charge igniting in his engine. His fans kicked on, and his face fell with mortification. He cleared his vocals, looking every direction except toward Karl. "Ah… forgive me." There was no telling if Karl was nervous because of the general situation or if he wasn't ready to continue what they had begun on the cliff. "I am not usually so weak-willed, please feel free to ignore that." Along with the fans, his engine began to purr. He covered his face, unsure if he could humiliate himself any further. "And ignore that too."

And then, Karl began to laugh.

It was an unsteady, newfound sort of laugh that went on longer than he liked...embarrassed, broken, but nowhere near forced, either. It shook him until he was forced to cover his own visor with a servo. He couldn't look Optimus in the optic if be hoped to say what was on his processor.

"I'm sorry!" he managed. "Sorry. It's just...look at us. We've got to be too old for this. Sitting here like newsparked bots, pretending we're not interested in each other. And with the Vehicons, we'd always just..._mercilessly _tease the guys who acted like we are now..." He knew he was rambling and waved a servo, cutting himself off. "Sorry."

Optimus laughed lightly with him, finally feeling comfortable enough to relax his frame. He pulled his legs up on the berth and sat beside Karl. "Well you must forgive me. As you may guess, I'm much more accustomed to dealing with war strategy and combat than anything remotely social." He hesitated before continuing, brushing a knuckle against Karl's knee joint. "And I have not been attracted to anyone in a long time. Now here you are in my berth and I don't know what I should do with you."

"Don't worry about it. It's been a while for me, too." Trying to remember the last berth he'd shared with another Vehicon, Karl continually came up empty. As he traced the metal joints and fastenings on the back of Optimus's hand, it became the least of his worries. "I guess we could always power down for the night, maybe stay up talking for a while. Unless...you know, if you wanted to pick up where we left off..."

"I think I do," Optimus said, resting his other servo against the side of Karl's knee. Karl's friends would be right; they were beating around the brackets far too long. Karl's small invitation was all he needed now, and he was losing his fortitude by the minute. He turned and began to climb over top of the Vehicon. "In fact, I don't think I can allow you to recharge until you've told me exactly what you want. So tell me Karl, what do you want me to do to you?"

His frame overshadowed Karl's completely - and that, of all things, was what set the Vehicon's fans in motion. He lay back against the berth, placing a servo at the juncture of Optimus's neck and shoulder plating; the frantic edge that he'd felt at the cliff edge had softened, becoming something slower and steadier. He leaned up until the side of his helm was once again rubbing the Autobot's. "I don't just want your digits...I want you."

Optimus pressed his helm to Karl's neck, frame sliding lightly against the smaller mech's body. He used a servo to pull one of the Vehicon's knees to the side, then worked his digits against his inner thigh. He spoke with his mouth brushing against his throat cabling. "Open up."

The words rumbled through him like thunder, and had scarcely passed Optimus's lip components before Karl was heatedly obeying - panel snapping back to expose his pressurizing spike and slick valve. He tipped his helm to the side, allowing complete access to his sensitive neck. "Mmm..."

Optimus so badly wanted to take him then. But their difference in scale was vast, and he knew from having had his digits in him that he wasn't ready for the larger mech. So he slid down, positioning himself comfortably between Karl's legs.

But upon closely looking at him he decided he would take his time. He had a feeling Karl hadn't had much experience with mouths, and thought it should be time to change that. He held Karl's spike in his servo and ran his glossa from the base to the tip, then bowed his helm and took him in his mouth.

Karl had been expecting any number of things, but Optimus's mouth was not one of them.

Sucking in a deep intake of air, he threw his helm back and offlined his visor while his sensors scrambled with the feeling. There was just no comparing it to any prior sensation; not the grip of a valve and certainly not the smooth rub of a fellow Vehicon's mask. But it was hot, wet, and exquisite, and he spread his legs for more.

Optimus slid his mouth over Karl's spike in a few slow movements, wanting to please him without sending him over just yet. He pulled out and placed his thumbs in his mouth one at a time, making sure they were sufficiently wet. Then with his servos on each thigh he pressed his thumbs into Karl's valve, first sliding them in and then carefully working them apart. He watched with narrowed optics as he stretched him, seeing the lubricant further coating his digits and dripping from the valve as he worked on it. Giving into his desires he bent closer and licked Karl's valve, pushing his glossa inside between his digits.

The Vehicon rose to meet every touch, writhing helplessly as his frame was wracked by one new sensation after another. Muscle fibers he hadn't used in years were getting a workout -already he could feel the stretch of both thumbs - but it was hard to concentrate on any discomfort when that glossa was so skillfully lapping over his sensitive nodes. That Optimus's digits and berth padding were getting awash in his lubricant was something he would worry about later. _"Ohhhhh._..oh, _frag yes_..."

Karl's moans were making Optimus' processor swim until his vocalized pleasure finally made his interface panel click open, aching spike extending out. He dragged his denta along Karl's thigh before shifting up, wiping his mouth against the back of his servo. He sat up, pulling Karl's legs up to align with his hips, the head of his spike pressed against the Vehicon's valve.

He wanted him so badly now that it hurt not to just take the little soldier. His servos held onto Karl's hips as he looked down at him, and the only other thing than thoughts of the Vehicon's imminent cries was the worry over their size difference. Improperly done, an interface of this nature could result in a hasty trip the emergency clinic.

"We're going to take it slow, alright? Tell me how you feel, just keep telling me."

Karl nodded, trying to steady himself enough to focus on the words and not the spike head pressed up against him. Optimus was big, he could feel that much, and he was going to feel even bigger inside him; at the same time, he'd never been so carefully prepared. Never felt so cared for in the arms of a lover.

"S'alright...I trust you." He reached out and gently squeezed one of Optimus's wrists. "Really trust you."

Optimus' spark flared out with his words. He leaned forward, slowly sliding into him. He groaned, stopping half way and waiting a moment. And then he pulled out and rocked in half way again, the copious amount of lubricant helping with the pressure. He clenched his denta, holding onto Karl's hip more firmly. His fans increased as he felt Karl's valve flexing around his spike, steadily adjusting to accommodate him.

Even after all the preparation and the generous amount of lubricant, the fit was _very_ tight. Karl's servos clenched into fists, shoulders tense, and yet he was unwilling to call a halt to things. It just wasn't painful enough for that - he'd endured far worse levels of discomfort, he told himself. Shutting off his visuals, he focused on the measures sound of Optimus's fans and waited to adjust.

Optimus shifted forward until their chassis brushed, mouth pressed against the side of Karl's helm as he steadily pushed deeper. He could feel the lubricant seeping in, Karl's valve clicking and reconfiguring around his spike as it made room for him. Being a larger model had come to be more of a hindrance than a benefit in his experience, but it had taught him to recognize the physical signs when a lover was ready or not, and finally, Karl was ready. Smiling, Optimus pulled back and thrust into him, burying in to the base.

The first thrust nearly knocked the air from Karl's vents. His valve had adjusted, everything had aligned, but the sense of pressure inside was nearly overwhelming. He found the trace of pleasure that was beneath it and narrowed his view to only that, telling himself that Optimus was Optimus and he could handle it for his sake.

It felt fantastic for Optimus, but something was missing. It was the lack of noise that had accompanied past lovers, and he realized that Karl hadn't made a sound. It wasn't what he was used to and it made him nervous. "Are you alright?"

Karl gave a terse nod. Then he shook his helm. Adjusting his position, he pulled back so Optimus's spike wasn't buried quite so deeply. "Just been a while, like I said...umm..." He tried to phrase it as delicately as possible, which was difficult in his current position. "You're kind of...huge. Maybe not so far? Just at first, I mean." He hated to sound like he was making demands.

Optimus' optics widened, mouth falling open. "I am _so_ sorry I..." He carefully slid out a little farther, "I must have miscalculated." Optimus tried to think over where his error had occurred, perhaps his last lover had been more recently experienced or had a slightly larger interface array. He wondered if Shockwave had designed them with less focus on this area's expansion capabilities as much as battle endurance, but he could only hope the scientist's immorality didn't extend so far. No, it was his miscalculation… and maybe over-enthusiasm. He continued to look over Karl with worry and embarrassment. He affectionately rubbed Karl's hip with his thumb. "Are you hurting? Would you like to stop?"

"No!" Karl replied too quickly. It was dawning that he may have hurt Optimus more than if he'd just told him to ease off, and that fact ached more than the stretch had. "It's fine. I'm serious, it's completely fine. You couldn't have read my mind, and I should have told you."

He touched the side of Optimus's shoulder plating once again, as though it could steady them both. Even such a simple motion caused him to shift around the large spike... however, they'd withdrawn just enough to keep it from being uncomfortable. "Please. Don't stop?"

Optimus nodded and pressed himself closer to the drone, kissing his forehelm in way of a second, silent apology. He pulled out and rocked back in, not deeper than half way. He moved slowly as he repeated, listening to his venting and feeling his servos on Optimus' plating, looking for any signs that would tell him how Karl was doing.

This time, there was no pain. The pressure hadn't just backed off enough to be tolerable... it was perfect. When Optimus rolled in, a wave of pleasure skittered down Karl's spinal strut like a dozen little fingers. His intakes hitched and he gave a nod, a real one this time, squeezing his back plating as he did.

Optimus moved to Karl's neck cabling, kissing and gently biting. His servo ran along the Eradicon's side, paying attention to the plates that he had once poured coolant between. He'd so badly wanted to touch him there before. And now that he could he indulged in it, wrapping his servo around the small hip and sliding up to his waist, thumb rubbing the seams.

Remembering a little of what he'd learned ages ago, he tucked a servo beneath Karl's knee and pulled up his leg, knowing the angle was supposed to feel good for the mech bottoming. He quickened his pace along with it, still keeping himself from reaching any deeper than before.

Static jolted across Karl's visuals, a cry escaping before he could stop it. His valve gave a swift shudder around Optimus's spike, moving in perfect time with the burst of pleasure that had induced it. Whatever had been hit had definitely never been stimulated before.

"Nnn... perfect..."

Once again, the size and tenderness of Optimus's servos on his frame threatened to drive him wild. He placed his own smaller digits over the digits on his side, touching lightly, not enough to hinder their exploration. This was exactly what he'd longed for on that day in the cell - to be on his back, feeling his then-captor moving inside him and caressing over him.

"_You're _perfect," Optimus murmured with soft conviction. "You are what I have needed for so long, and I will do everything in my power to keep you wanting to be here. I beg you to voice your every need and hide nothing… because I cannot bear to lose you again."

Another time, another place, and such a sentiment might have made Karl and his friends laugh. Hearing it just then, lying safe in Optimus's arms, was enough to make his spark ache. He rubbed his helm against the side of the Autobot's, his voice tight and soft. "I'll never leave. Because there's nowhere else I'll ever want to be."

Optimus' engine growled approvingly, his chassis pressed against Karl's, sending the vibrations through the other's plating. His optics roamed over the Vehicon as he took in the sight of him, trying to capture every plate and curve in his permanent memory.

The sound of his vocals was comforting on a level that made him afraid, afraid if he couldn't hear him forever. He didn't want Karl to just be a memory some day, he wanted him right there, ever in the present. And his vocals now, the soft, pleased sounds emanating from him… Optimus wanted more of that. He eased Karl's knee closer to his chassis as he angled him farther, curving his back struts as he slid in and out of him.

Each thrust was bringing Optimus just that slightest bit deeper, but the discomfort that had been present before was long gone. There was only the pleasure racing through Karl, the contended rumble of the larger engines above him, the vibrations that could be felt all the way down to his thighs.

Reverently, like a mantra, he began to whisper Optimus's name.

Optimus' faceplating heated slightly at the sound of his name being vocalized that way. Karl felt so good, so good to hold, to feel the warmth of his frame, to feel his slick, heated valve taking him in. He felt humbled to be here with him, to be the one Karl had accepted, and he would continue to do what he could to be worthy of the other.

He wanted Karl to feel safe, he wanted to see him friends with the other Autobots, he wanted him trained and powerful and confident in himself. And even if the other Autobots would never accept him, even if the base was destroyed and he was unable to provide a home for Karl, he would give him his love to the very end.

Karl's whispers spurred him on and he groaned, rocking deeper into him. "Let it out," Optimus whispered back. "Those vocals… I want to hear them more."

Only too willing to obey, Karl held nothing back.

_"Primus!_ Please, there,_ right there..."_

The first hints of an overload began to lap at him, electrical jolts making their way up from his thighs as the spike stimulated him on every pass. He began to gasp louder, sharper, his moans coming closer together. Optimus was driving him to the honeyed edge of completion and all he wanted was make him feel every bit as wonderful.

To go over together, to watch that beautiful, stoic face light up with the pleasure it so very much deserved. He gripped the Autobot's wide hips with his legs, deliberately clenching his valve around him.

"Ngh." Optimus growled as he felt Karl tightening up. He was beginning to get close, and he didn't want to get there before Karl did. If he got too close he could back down, but he didn't want to disrupt their rhythm if he could avoid it. He reached between them to stroke Karl's spike and pounded into him, letting loose, engulfed in the sound of his vocals.

Karl buried his face in Optimus's neck with an unrestrained cry, holding tight to him in every possible way, and he could practically hear the electric whirrs and whines of his own system tensing up in preparation. He tried to fight it, to hold back until the older mech could make it there with him.

"I'm..._I'malmostthere...!_"

Something about Karl's tone gave Optimus the feeling he was holding back, the way he moved against him, seemingly desperate to please. Karl was trying to wait for him and Optimus knew he wouldn't let go until he did. So he enveloped himself in the moment, feeling Karl's servos tightening against him, legs wrapped around his hips and listening to his escalating cries.

He gritted his denta, a growl pulling from his vocals as the peak began to hit him.

And suddenly, all the wishing in the world couldn't hold Karl's overload back.

His entire frame quaked with the force of his climax, vocals calling out blindly, nothing in the world to him but the fact that Optimus was there with him, inside him, something to cling to in that place where everything else was white.

Optimus wrapped his arms around him tighter, feeling Karl's frame writhing beneath him as they simultaneously overloaded. He continued to thrust into him as he climaxed, his intakes catching as he finally hit the full overload, transfluid spilling out into the tight valve. Waves of energy tore through him one after the next, and he continued until he felt Karl's frame relax beneath him.

The room grew quiet other than the sound of their systems, and Optimus propped himself on his elbows to keep his weight off of Karl. He'd bent forward, resting his helm on the padding, tilted slightly so he could look at Karl.

Even with the final tremors of overload leaving him and the afterglow beginning to set in, Karl felt permanently locked around Optimus. It was only with an effort that he let his legs relax and slide down from the Autobot's hips, reaching the berth with a muted thump. But once he was relaxed, the entire world seemed to be at peace...condensed down to the small pops and creaks of cooling metal, the groans of their overworked fans, and the faint howl of the desert wind outside.

He didn't dare to speak and ruin the moment, but the budge of his helm against Optimus's said all he needed to.

Optimus smiled at the gesture. "I suppose I should let you recharge," he said. He slowly pulled out, retracting his equipment into the housing before lying beside Karl, propped on his side. He rested his servo on Karl's stomach. "It's been a long day for you."

"For both of us," Karl corrected sleepily. He rolled over and scooted in close to the wide chassis, where the thundering sparkbeat could be heard the strongest. The warmth was almost enough to knock him into recharge right there, but he didn't want to pass out on Optimus. Not just yet, at least. "Turned out alright though, didn't it?"

"More than alright," Optimus said, moving his servo to rub Karl's back. The Vehicon was barely conscious, so he pulled away and reached for the berth-side controls, shutting off the lights. He put his arm around Karl again as they shifted back together in the dark.

"Karl," he said after a while, "Have you tested your weapon yet?"

Karl didn't answer.

Holding his arm well away from both of them, he let his weapon begin to charge...not enough to fire, but enough to feel the energon flowing into all the locks and power cells, warming it from the inside out. The whine it emitted was faint, newly awakening, but it was unmistakeable to Karl's audials...and it was then that he fully realized just how much he'd missed it. When the gun finally calmed and his embrace found Optimus again, his voice was tight.

"Do you think...we can test it out tomorrow?"

"Of course," Optimus responded. Imagining Karl letting loose on a target was too appealing to him, and he looked forward to seeing him gain back his confidence. His processor drifted over the future, of Karl's training, of him finally being introduced to the children, of the Autobots eventually calling him one of their own. He looked forward to making the base his home.

He closed his optics, listening to the soft sounds of Karl's system.

End

Last credit note, Strict Machines was a team effort with Chaifootsteps on tumblr. Hope you enjoyed!


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